Playing His Game
by Kasumi Nekozawa
Summary: Matthew Williams knew something was wrong the moment Emily F. Jones slipped him into a sundress. He knew his half-sister got him into trouble again. He had no idea that trouble meant living in a luxurious apartment, being driven to work on a limousine and an arrogant Arthur Kirkland who had the Canadian wrapped around his finger. Now Matthew was playing his game and he was losing.
1. Chapter 1

**Kasumi Note: **Here's a little something I came up with after reading a book by Brooke Hastings entitled "Playing for Keeps". The plot was so interesting that I couldn't help but write a Hetalia version of it. But my version doesn't quite stick with the plot, since I added a little of my own ideas. Those who have actually read the book will know what I changed. To those who haven't read the book, I suggest you do. It's a good read.

**Warnings: **_**OOC. I repeat OOC! Very bad Anglo-English. It's been a long time since I've been to the U.K and I'm completely engrossed in American culture that I forgot how to write that kind of English. Sorry to all Englishmen out there! BTW: It's yaoi. Yes ,yaoi!**_

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Hetalia, though I wish that I did. All credits for the characters go to Hidekaz Himaruya. As for the plot, it loosely follows Brooke Hastings' book so I can't take credit for it either. I take credit for nothing. NOTHING, I TELLS YA!

* * *

_This was not happening. No, of course not! I'm not seeing myself in the mirror with only a dress on, right? This is obviously a dream, right? Right?_

The cold, harsh slap Matthew Williams received from his hyperactive younger sister proved his insistent denial of reality wrong. Everything that happened within the last thirty minutes – his younger sister, Emily, barging in through the front door, he being dragged into a closet and forced out of his clothes, he staring at himself clad in a backless yellow dress- was all real. It was definitely not a dream. It was a nightmare.

"Would you calm down, Mattie?" Emily F. Jones yelled, after harshly slapping her bewildered half-brother and then shaking him wildly. "It's just for a month. No one will notice a thing!"

Matthew rolled his eyes. "Oh, sure they won't!" his voice was nothing but sarcastic, "They won't notice the fact that you got taller, or your hair being a tad too curly or your blue eyes becoming violet! Sure, Em, they won't notice a thing!"

Emily pouted. The same adorable pout that got Matthew into trouble more than once with his parents. _Mon dieu, _could she stop pouting like that?

"Your pout's not working, Em. Try another approach?" he said icily, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at her.

"Oh, just help me out big bro!" she finally caved in, looking at him with those big, blue eyes. "I got myself into a lot of trouble today and I don't think I can get out alone!"

Matthew sighed. Twenty-three years. That's how long he had to live with his troublemaker of a sister. All because his _Maman _decided to get drunk one day and have the little devil.

"Emily F. Jones. What did you get yourself into **this **time?" he growled.

"Uhm…" she hesitated, "Probably a marriage contract…"

Matthew's eyes widened. "**A marriage contract?!**_" _he yelled in surprise.

Emily frowned. "I did say 'probably'!" she argued, "I'm not really sure what it is yet…"

Matthew turned pale. Not that he already **was **pale to begin with. He found himself staggering towards the nearest chair, which was an old rocking chair at the corner of the room. He slumped down on it, tired and angry.

"What did you do, exactly? How did you get yourself into- into this mess?" he tried to sound calm, but ultimately failed when his voice cracked.

"Well, let's start from the very beginning!" Emily sang, trying to lighten up the mood. "You do know I work for the Hetalia Gazette, right?"

He responded with the nod.

"Well, there was this ad on the paper…" she stopped and started to giggle. Matthew raised an eyebrow. "I-I-I can't even say it… I just… Bwahahahaha!"

Matthew groaned. "Out with it, Em!" he said weakly.

Emily shook her head, wiping tears that pooled at the corners of her eyes. "Okay, okay…" she gasped, "The ad said:

_Wanted: Young woman between the ages of 21 and 26 to bear child of unmarried man. Must be attractive, healthy, and intelligent. $5000 upon employment, $10,000 upon conception of child, $25,000 upon birth of baby. Send resumé, picture and personal history."_

Emily ended her oral recitation with a dramatic bow which Matthew greeted with a stern look. "So you answered the ad?" he said coldly.

"Of course!" she beamed, "I mean, it's $40,000! Can you believe it, Mattie?! It can pay all of Mom's hospital bills **and **it can pay your rent!"

"Emily! You didn't really have to do that!" he whined, "I can pay my own bills from my own salary. You may not know this, but accountants make a considerable amount of money. And about Mom, I'm sure I can find a way to pay for her bills…"

"Yeah, because you're just so good at that!" Emily mocked, "Stop lying to yourself, Matt! You can hardly pay next month's rent and you think you can pay for Mom's hospital bills. You think therapy for stroke is cheap?!"

Matthew winced. He had never in his life thought his younger sister would raise her voice. Not until now, that is.

"What do you need me for?" he asked, "**You **were the one who answered the ad and not me. Why was **I **suddenly awakened at 5 in the morning and then forced into some dress? Why, Em?"

Emily looked guilty. In fact, she looked as if she had just sent her own brother to his death. "About that…" she slowly began, "The lawyer of the guy who put up the ad called me yesterday at work. He asked for a meeting with me 12 noon today. I had no choice but to accept his offer…"

"And where do I fit in?" Matthew interrupted.

"Dude, I'm getting there!" she barked, "The thing is, I sent him the wrong picture when I answered the ad. Instead of my current picture, I sent that picture of you in college. You know, when you got drunk and I dressed you up as a girl? I thought it would be funny and… Mattie!"

Mathew fainted. He was probably the only one in the whole world that fainted while sitting on a rocking chair. And no matter how many times Emily frantically called out his name, he was still out cold. He remained that way until Emily decided to wake him up by dropping a glass full of ice on his chest.

Who wouldn't wake up with such a cold and slimy thing sliding down their chest? Matthew woke up with a start and glared at Emily.

"You could have done me a favor and let me stay that way until 12 noon…" he growled, "So I can miss that appointment and a possible engagement…"

"You're going to that appointment whether you like it or not!" Emily sneered.

And that was it, his fate was sealed. He gave in and just let Emily haul him back to his room. There, she sat him on a chair in front of a large, brown dresser and fixed his blonde hair that hung a little above his shoulder. She tried to get rid of that one unruly curl that always went against any comb's will but gave up when it utterly refused to stay in place. Matthew occupied himself with thinking of reasons as to why any sane man would put up such an article. It helped keep his mind off the fact that he was going to meet this man any time today. Well, it was amusing to think of the man. Couldn't he just date, get married and have kids like normal people do?

"I know what you're thinking Mattie…" Emily mumbled as she lovingly put powder on her model's face.

"Well?"

"Well…" she repeated, "I think the guy's handicapped. Can't move and no one's there to take care of him. Or maybe he had an accident that left an ugly scar on his face to the point that no woman can ever look at his face. Kinda like the Phantom of the Opera or something…"

Matthew giggled, despite being angry at her earlier. "Maybe he's just too old…" he put in, "You know, a retired businessman loaded with cash. He probably doesn't want any of those old hags that only nag and nag. I think he wants someone young and fresh and can make for him a suitable heir to all his millions…"

Emily raised an eyebrow. "Maybe he isn't interested in women at all…" she purred, "Maybe he likes men and didn't have the guts to tell his parents. His folks want a child and he sure doesn't want to do it with any woman. So, bam, he hires a mother and continues to pleasure his lover…"

Matthew muttered a small, helpless cry. "If he's interested in men…" he mumbled, "I'm as good as dead…"

To his dismay, Emily laughed. He shrugged nonchalantly and smiled. But he couldn't hide the uneasiness in the pit of his stomach. Was he really going to go to the meeting with this lunatic's lawyer? If he didn't, what would happen to his sister? She might never be able to smile like she was doing now. The sight of her crying would send Matthew hysterical.

_I don't __**have**__ to agree, eh? I can still refuse the offer and say that I answered the ad when I was drunk and out of my mind. Or I can explain that this was all a misunderstanding cause by my outlandish sister. There's no harm in just talking with the man, is there?_

With all the courage he could muster, Matthew smiled to Emily at the mirror. She looked surprised and smiled back awkwardly. She knew he was at least trying to be positive with this, like how he had been positive about her crashing the car into a fire hydrant two months ago. For a half-brother, he sure was supportive.

_God, please help Mattie out. I don't wanna see him cry like he used to. I can't be his hero during the meeting tomorrow so please be his Hero for me. Matthew's a good brother and I pray that You would make sure he's safe_

* * *

_**Later that same day…  
**_

* * *

Matthew found himself staring up at the Zwingli law firm which he found amusingly high and amazingly new. He had lived in New York for ten years after moving out of Vancouver when he was thirteen and he felt ashamed that he hadn't really noticed this building before.

"Must have been finished only a year ago…" he thought to himself, glancing down at his watch. 11:45. Better to be fifteen minutes early than fifteen minutes late.

He took in a deep breath, adjusted his three inch yellow heels and proceeded towards the buildings swinging door. The moment he stepped in he was greeted by a rather short woman that sat at a desk for too large for her.

"I have an appointment with Mr. Vash Zwingli…" he said in his most feminine voice. Having a very small lump in his throat, it wasn't so hard for him to speak that way. He had been mistaken for a girl countless times when he chanced to pick up the phone in his mother's absence.

"O-Oh… You must be Miss Jones…" the petite woman, or in Matthew's opinion, petite girl stammered. "Big brother… I-I-I mean Mr. Zwingli has been expecting your arrival…"

Matthew gave the blushing girl a gentle smile which seemed to reassure her because her shoulders seemed to loosen as she gave him a lopsided grin. She held her hand towards the long corridor to the right of her desk, "Mr. Zwingli is on the third door to the right…" she explained, "Oh! Please do knock. He might be expecting you but he strictly requires all his clients to knock first before coming in."

Matthew thanked the girl and proceeded to walk down the long hallway. Upon arrival at the third door to his right, he suddenly found himself deprived of his will to walk. He ended up just standing there, admiring the intricate design of the Swiss Alps that was carved into the mahogany double doors. He told himself that he was waiting for a sign, something that would tell him that he wasn't supposed to get into the room. Unfortunately for him, no such sign came. Instead, the doors opened by themselves and a short, obviously annoyed man peeked into the hallway.

"Miss Jones…" he said sternly, "I you would be so kind as to come into my office right away… I can't have you waste your time staring at my door now, can I?"

Matthew nodded sheepishly, following the man into the lush office. Matthew took in the rare sight before him- the antique furniture, the bear-skin rug, the rifle that hung on the wall above a picture of a boy and girl in front of a wooden cabin- everything looked so… Swiss.

"Care to sit down, Miss Jones?" Mr. Zwingli offered, motioning towards a red velvet couch. Matthew nodded wordlessly and sat down.

"Would you like something to drink, Miss Jones?" the man asked again, "I'm afraid I only have beer and some champagne…

"If it isn't too much trouble, Mr. Zwingli…" Matthew replied, "I'd take up your offer on the champagne…"

Mr. Zwingli nodded and walked towards the fridge that was designed like an old wooden cabinet that Matthew didn't notice it when he stepped in. Mr. Zwingli handed him a half-glass of champagne which he gladly sipped. He felt himself relax to the cool taste of the liquid on his mouth.

"I see you're feeling a bit better…" Mr. Zwingli began, "First of all, Miss Jones, I would like to start with introductions. I'm Vash Zwingli, heir to the Zwingli law firm and my purpose for staying here despite my flight to London being only two hours from now is to inform you of what you are supposed to do as the woman whom my client has chosen to be… How should I say this…?"

"His wife?" Matthew jokingly finished for him.

Vash raised an eyebrow. "Something along those lines…" he said cautiously, "Moving on. My client thought your application was very impressive. I've read it myself and I can honestly say that you are quite the woman. Having graduated at the top of your class all throughout your school life tells me you've got the brains. You're certainly beautiful, though the picture you sent didn't to that beauty of yours any justice. I'll have to trust you on the health part, seeing that you won't seem to be fainting any time soon…"

Matthew giggled as Vash continued; "You have a decent salary, being on Hetalia Gazette's list of fresh, young talents and you don't look too thin to have starved yourself. So, why would you want the money?"

Matthew smirked. "As expected from a lawyer…" he said, "My mother suffered a stroke last week and, due to the hospital bills, my so called 'decent salary' dwindled into nothing. I guess that sums it all up…"

Matthew smiled. Vash didn't seem to be the humorous type. He just nodded blankly and handed Matthew a piece of stationary. He opened it up to see the address of Vash's "client" printed in bold letters.

"Oh, no!" he cried, "I-I-I wasn't planning on accepting your client's offer. I-I just mailed in the application on a whim… I thought of it as a joke!" _Well, Emily thought of it as a joke._

"I'm sorry, Miss Jones, but my client doesn't take kindly to jokes…" Vash informed sullenly, "That idiot went through a lot of trouble to get you…"

Matthew winced. _Idiot? He just called his client an idiot… They must be close._

"I apologize very dearly, Mr. Zwingli. But I can't simply agree to be a mother to some stranger's child…" he explained.

"I told him that. Told him he'd gone insane. Still can't believe why Lili sided with him…" Vash mumbled to no one in particular, "No choice, lass. No harm meeting him, though…"

Matthew considered the suggestion. _Well, there's really no harm in meeting him. Besides, it would mean more if I told him personally that I can't be a mother. And maybe we could all laugh at Emily's silliness and dismiss this whole episode as something to tell my wife and kids when I get older._

"V-Very well then…" he stammered, "I'll go and meet him. Maybe he'll be okay with me refusing his offer…"

Vash laughed. "I'll be dead before those eyebrows decide to actually listen to someone other than himself…" he seemed to be mocking his own client, "But with those innocent looks, I think you at least have a chance to escape. Lili manages to do it all the time…"

Matthew was now dumbfounded. _Okay, so they weren't just close. They seemed to be really, really, really close. And who's Lili? Oh! She must be that girl I met earlier. Go figure, she looks like a female version of this military man in front of me. Must be hard having a brother like this…_

"Uhm, Mr. Zwingli…" he gently called, stopping the man from going on further about his rant, "Thank you for taking time to explain things to me… And I'm sure I'm keeping you from your flight to London…"

At this, Vash quickly glanced at his watch. An hour more and he'll be swimming to London. "I see, I apologize Miss Jones but it seems I have to leave…" he excused himself.

As he stood up, Matthew carefully placed the now empty glass of champagne on top of the small fridge and was now standing by the door. Just when he took a step outside, Vash called out to him.

"Miss Jones! That stupid idiot won't be back until the day after tomorrow so I suggest you go to him on the afternoon of that day. The arrogant bastard's already planned some sort of welcome party for you on that day. And when you see him, do me a favor and slap him. Right across that lovely cheek of his. Tell him it's from Vash, with love."

Matthew tried not to giggle as he managed a weak "Yes" and left the room. He struggled with his heels but managed to get out into the busy streets of New York anyway. He found himself sighing, first- because he felt relieved no one noticed he was male- and second- he still hadn't succeeded in refusing the offer. How was he going to get out of it now? He tried to be optimistic but eventually ran out of ideas.

"Well, it's still the day after tomorrow…" he reminded himself with false cheer, "Still got a lot of time to think, eh? Hope so…"

* * *

_Since when did I convince myself to do this? Emily, you idiot, I don't think we can escape this one. I don't think __**I **__can escape this one!_

Matthew looked at himself again through the windows of the jet black Ferrari that was parked across his "mystery man's" front door. Well, it wasn't exactly the man's front door. But it **was **the door to the building where the man's apartment could be found. So, to Matthew, it was technically his front door.

"I don't think I look so good…" Matthew told himself dejectedly.

He was half wrong and half right. Half wrong because he looked absolutely gorgeous in Emily's long-sleeved red turtleneck, her brand new skinny jeans and the beige ankle-high boots he bought the other day. And with his hair in a fancy French knot, no one would've thought he was male.

He was half right because his face was a little- if not complete- wreck. He wore little make-up today since Emily saw he was already as white as a ghost. His lips had a little gloss and some lipstick, but they seemed redder due to all the biting he had done on the taxi. Thankfully, his hair remained perfect despite the cold, autumn wind that fogged up his violet rimmed glasses.

"Great. I didn't wear my glasses when I was with the attorney, thinking I might look too nerdy in them. But here I am, wearing my glasses when I'm finally going to meet the so called 'client'. Maple! I can't even see anything with all this fog!" he mumbled loud enough for himself to hear.

After an unsuccessful pep talk to himself, where he ended up convincing himself that he was "digging his own grave and might as well brought flowers to leave on his deathbed", Matthew took a deep breath and calmly walked towards the automatic sliding doors. He wasn't really aware at how close he had been holding his red handbag or how absolutely stunning he looked as he walked in, his sleek black coat flowing about his ankle creating some sort of wind blown effect.

He waited impatiently in front of the elevator, trying hard to ignore the stares the male audience was giving him. Sooner than expected, the "ding" from the elevator was heard and Matthew rushed to get in. Fortunately, none of the men were going upstairs so he was left alone in the elevator. He opened the crumple piece of stationary Vash had given him the other day and tried to find the floor number. 26. There it was.

Punching in the number, he tried to concentrate on the awful elevator music while looking uninterestingly at the small black screen on top of the elevator that told the passengers what floor they were on. He whistled at how high he was and wondered whether or not he was going to die if he was to jump from that height.

_Matthew Williams, killing yourself is not an answer to your problems. If Maman ever heard of this nonsensical idea of yours she might as well have a heart attack. Control yourself and just imagine you're going to get some pancakes. Pancakes. Delicious, maple syrup-drenched pancakes._

When the elevator doors finally thought it was time to derive Matthew of his anxiety, the latter felt a mixture of relief… And more anxiety.

He walked stiffly- very stiffly, as stiff as a robot as far as Matthew was concerned- towards the large oak desk in the middle of the 26th floor. Matthew thought it looked ridiculously big to be functional and thought of it as some sort of decoration. But the tanned, rather short, brown haired girl behind said desk told him that somebody was actually using the darn thing.

"_Bonjour!_" the girl greeted gleefully, pigtails bobbing up and down.

_Oh! She speaks French. Pleasant surprise! I thought nobody else in NYC spoke French but me!_

"_Bonjour_ to you too, _petite_ _madame oiselle_…" he greeted back, "I have an appointment with _Monsieur _Zwingli's client…"

At once, the girl's brown eyes brightened. "I was told to wait for you, Miss Jones," she told him, "I'm Sesel Creole, born in Seychelles grew up in France. I noticed you too speak French, _oui?_"

Matthew giggled. "I lived half of my life in Canada and learning both its languages was my hobby…" he confessed, "I've lost my touch, though, having lived in New York for the other half of my life…"

Sesel giggled. "That seems interesting Miss Jones, no I know why he was so keen to have you." Another giggle. "He's been expecting you, but it seems you came at a bad time. He's out for his usual afternoon tea. But he asked me to let you in his office. It's the only one on the left of the hall, you'll never miss it. He'll be back shortly, his tea breaks never last more than fifteen minutes and it looks like there's only seven minutes left…"

"_Merci, _Sesel."

Matthew followed the girl's instructions and found himself in front of another huge door. Unlike the time at the Zwingli Law Firm, he decided he might as well go in. He wouldn't want his "mystery man" thinking he was some kind of weirdo, just standing in the hallway and staring at his completely bland door.

The moment Matthew opened the door, he literally jaw-dropped at the panoramic view the room offered. Shyly curious, he walked towards the nearest window and looked down at the busy streets.

"Maple!" he yelped when he remembered he had a fear of heights. His breath became more rapid and erratic as he looked on, ignoring the fact that his stomach was turning in the most uncomfortable way. "It's so far down, eh! Maple, it's scary! B-B-B-But… It's strangely…"

"Beautiful?" a voice interrupted him.

Matthew turned with a jolt. He pressed his body towards the glass, not caring that the harder he pressed the bigger the chances for the glass to crack and for him to fall. The man whose voice frightened him earlier seemed amused at his reaction. He ran a hand through his sandy blonde hair and just stood there, leaning by the door, watching the poor boy (er, girl) squirm with those enchanting emerald eyes.

Matthew couldn't help but notice he was beautiful. From the way his sandy blonde hair was disarrayed to the complete and utter poise he had while leaning on the wall. Matthew stared at his face, his eyes catching something ridiculous right above the man's eyes.

"Are those caterpillars?!" he gasped without really thinking, "You have caterpillars on your face! Wait, don't move! I'm going to get a magazine to whack them with! Just, just stay there!"

"Charming." the man said in a thick British accent. He felt himself giggle at the sight of the young man (er, woman) frantically search through the pile of newspapers he left for her on the only couch in the room. She seemed to be looking for a magazine hard enough to squash the "caterpillars" but soft enough not to hurt his face.

When the man couldn't take it any longer, he smirked. "Would you care to take a seat, Em?" he offered.

Matthew froze to look at him. There were only three people alive that Emily had allowed to use her nickname: Madeline; their mother, Ivan; Emily's self-proclaimed archenemy who seemed to like her more than hate her, and himself, her half-brother. No one else had the guts to call her that in fear of getting a kick to the vital regions. Some stranger, scratch that, some lunatic would never know let alone use her nickname.

"Oh, pardon my intrusion..." Matthew tried to act polite, "But, by any chance, are you the one who put up that silly ad in the Hetalia Gazette?"

The man raised up one bushy caterpillar.

_Oh, so those things are his eyebrows… Now I know why Vash referred to him as "eyebrows". Those things are thick, and I mean bold permanent marker thick. Maybe even thicker…_

"The ad is not silly, as you call it…" he replied coldly, "It my sound amusing at first but I assure you, pet, it's far more serious than you could ever imagine…"

A cold chill ran down Matthew's spine, as if the temperature in the room suddenly became 20 degrees lower. "I-I-I see…" he stammered, "B-B-Before things get out of hand, I would like to clear up a few things, Mister-"

"Kirkland. Arthur Kirkland. The name would be a tad too long if I added the second or junior as my dear Father fondly calls me, but it's there when you check my birth certificate."

Matthew nodded, trying to process the information. _Arthur Kirkland, where have I heard of that name before?_

And then it hit him. Arthur Kirkland, only son of the owner of the Kirkland Group of Companies, KGC as called by most people. One of the most eligible; and to Emily's opinion, distasteful bachelors in America. And probably the whole world.

"Oh…" was all Matthew managed to say.

Arthur grinned. Something that had an immediate affect on Matthew, making his knees buckle and shake.

"May I take your coat, **Matthew**?" he asked, grinning.

_Oh, hell no!_

He turned pale. More pale than he already was. He was probably whiter than the yeti or the abominable snowman. He felt the world spin around him, teasing him for the fool he had made of himself when he agreed to Emily's silly scheme. The man knew who he was. **Damn it, the man knew!**

"Is it too late to say I can explain?" he shrugged, trying hard not to cry. He was unconsciously pouting, though. This was something he did when he knew he was in trouble and there was no way out. Pouting always got him out of trouble countless times, but it failed him today.

"Don't do that, love. I might as well treat you as a woman and shove your body down that bloody couch…" he said coolly but with anger, "Now, your coat?"

Matthew obeyed and handed him the coat. "What do you from me, eh?" he squeaked, "I mean, when you figured out I was male you could've refused to meet with me. Why send me here?"

Arthur laughed sardonically as Matthew nervously sat down on the couch. The former carefully hang the coat on the coat rack by the door then sauntered off to where Matthew had seated himself. He satisfied himself with sitting right in front of the shaking blonde, taking in every nook and cranny of his rather slim frame.

"Sorry to burst your bubble, Mattie, but I ask the questions. Savvy?" he said huskily.

Matthew felt himself get sick when this complete stranger used such a familiar endearment with him. He had half a mind to punch the rude bastard then slap him so he could feel what an insensitive jerk he was being.

"Fine." He agreed, contented with just sulking silently.

Arthur grinned cockily. "You are awfully submissive, Matthew… Mind telling me where that special trait of yours came from? Surely it wasn't from your Father. I heard he left you even before you were born. Your Mother, maybe? She seems quite sheepish and shy. Oh, wait! That's just her façade, is it not? She seems to be innocently seductive. She was able to have that annoyingly vivacious sister of yours, after all…"

"Shut up!" he finally snapped, standing. "You have no right to insult my _Maman _in such a way! She is the most loving person I know and she would never have wanted to do what she had to do if only love wasn't involved! _Maman _loved my father and she loved Emily's! Don't you dare talk like that about her!"

Arthur stood as well, towering a mere five inches over the younger blonde. "You are quite the vixen, despite being male. Are you sure you're not a woman? That would be an awful way to waste your beauty."

Something in Matthew finally broke into a dozen little pieces and scattered around his mind. He clenched his right hand, unclenched it again and drew it across the Brit's face with a resounding "smack". Arthur remained grinning; seemingly unfazed as the tears that pricked Matthew's face began to trickle down his cheek.

"I, dear sir, am not a woman. And if it's a woman you want, you might as well go to the nearest strip bar. There are a lot of women, heck even men, out there that would love to be your plaything. I would like to keep my virtue, or at the very least, my sanity. I don't think I can keep talking with you any longer. Not when your mouth is as filthy as a Manhattan garbage can!"

The moment his hand was about to reach the knob, Arthur spoke low and viciously:

"My little maple? Wait, I guess I would have to use that bloody language… _Mon petite maple?"_

Matthew froze. Not because the name he had just been called had only been used by his mother and no one else. But because the man's tone of voice commanded him to turn around and answer his call. It was as if it was his responsibility to answer the lunatic's call.

"That's a good lad…" Arthur cooed when he saw Matthew turn to face him, "Now, now. Don't be cross with me… That phone of yours will ring any second and- ah- pick it up now…"

Right on cue, his mobile phone rang. The sound of Strauss' "Tales of the Vienna Woods" began to fill the entire room. Matthew briefly glared at Arthur before reaching his hand into his red handbag and pick up his silver, rather old Nokia phone.

"Mattie, where are 'ya?"

It was Emily's southern drawl on the other line.

"Why? What happened?" he asked her.

"Well, I'll be damned, it's a miracle Matt! Nothing but a miracle!" she exclaimed. Matthew could hear her jumping up and down, wherever she was.

"What's a miracle?"

"The bills! All the annoying, pesky bills! They're all paid, in full **and **in advance! Someone paid for all of 'em, Matt! The rent to your apartment, the electricity and water bills, the hospital bills and even my credit card bills, all paid! Can ya believe it?!"

Matthew let the phone drop from his hand, landing safely on the soft, carpeted floor. He stared at Arthur, mouth gaping. "You…" he scowled, "Why do this? I never asked you to do anything!"

"Think of it as you owing me a favor, pet. A favor that I plan to collect now…"

Matthew folded his arms across his chest. "You want me to be the mother of you soon-to-be child, right?" he laughed, "Unfortunately for you, I am not a woman. I am incapable of conceiving any children and I'm sure you're well aware of that…"

"Who in the world said you needed to get pregnant?" Arthur put in matter-of-factly, "My parents requested that I put that ad on the daily paper. I just wanted to please them. They would never approve of any lass I bring home from my travels. They told me all these farfetched stories of young ladies being elegant, virtuous, shy, sheepish, innocent, and all that humbug. I just wanted them happy."

"So, you just want me to be some kind of... Doll, I suppose, that you show off to your parents? Some girl they would gush over and pamper like some kind of princess, right?" his sentence overflowed with sarcasm.

"You're close; love, but not yet there..." Arthur piped in, "You are more of... How do I put this? A fake fiancée would be the best term..."

Matthew laughed half-heartedly. "Fiancée, huh? It doesn't sound so bad. I've been called worse things..."

"How about it, love?" Arthur offered, reaching out his right hand.

Matthew glared at it. "Not in your lifetime, psycho!"

"Can you pay back all the money I spent on your bills, Matthew?" the older man dared.

"You're blackmailing me..." Matthew scowled, "You strike low, Kirkland. Very, very, very low..."

Arthur quirked an eyebrow at his displeasure, "Changed your mind yet, darling?" he asked.

Matthew sighed, groaned and even stomped his foot on the ground. But nothing he did could get him out of the situation. In the end, he took Arthur Kirkland's hand and agreed to be his 'fiancée'.

_This will only be temporary. He's really not planning to keep me for long, right? When I've served my purpose and all the bills he paid- without my permission- will be as good as refunded, I can say goodbye to him and his arrogant eyebrows. _

* * *

**Additional: **Please review. I wanna know if I should continue this. It's kind of a spur of the moment thing and I'm not sure if I wanna finish this. But your reviews might change my mind. So I'm begging you, please review!


	2. Chapter 2

**K/N: **Yes, I made Arthur taller than Matthew. I had no other choice! I couldn't make him shorter, which would make the whole "towering over you" scene look ridiculous! Sorry if I offended any of you, especially those who prefer Arthur to be shorter. Please, don't be mad at me… Please… *pouting as cutely as Matthew*… Please?

* * *

After fifteen minutes of talking about the information Arthur had tirelessly gathered about Matthew – from his elementary school grades to interviews between his middle school teachers to his performance in college- the younger blonde found himself standing on the thin line between anger and embarrassment as he watched the Brit laugh and laugh… And laugh.

"What's so funny about me being a virgin?!" he tired to scream only to have it come out of his mouth like a helpless squeak.

"I do not find it funny… I find it amusing…" Arthur argued, dabbing at his eyes with a white handkerchief.

Matthew pouted again. The same cute pout he unintentionally did earlier.

"Matthew…" Arthur said in a low tone, "I told you once before if you pout like that again you might as well bid your virginity farewell…"

"You wouldn't do that…" Matthew gasped, "Would you?"

Arthur shook his head, ignoring the fact that the young man was being utterly ignorant. "Of course not!" he gasped dramatically, "Why would I do such a horrible thing? You have to give your first to someone who deserves it. Surely a millionaire such as I do not deserve to have that honour!"

Matthew crinkled his nose. "I hate you."

"Fall in line, poppet. There are a lot of you who hate me."

Matthew crossed his arms over his chest and wisely decided to change the subject. "I see you've gathered quite a lot of information about me. I didn't know you were the stalker type…"

Arthur cocked an eyebrow. "Stalker?" he repeated his last word, "I believe it is only customary for an employer to know as much as he can about the person whom he is employing…"

"Okay, then. Since you already know so much about me, tell me more about yourself. After all, I have the right to know whom I'm working with."

"Did I not say that I will be the only one who would ask the questions?" Arthur countered.

"It isn't a question, Mr. Kirkland. Rather, it's a request…" Matthew put it, smirking.

Arthur found himself speechless. "You're awfully good with words, poppet. I can honestly say you've won this round of verbal assault."

_What part of what I said could be classified as verbal assault? Maple, he's weird._

Matthew found himself smiling, proud that he got the man to shut up for at least three seconds. He found out, though, that his attempt to pry information from the man had gone to waste. Arthur never answered his 'request'. The latter wordlessly stood up and asked that he and Matthew leave. Matthew took it as a sign that he was the type of man that kept mostly to himself. And for the entire minute they were alone in the elevator he decided not to bother with the man's personal information. It was never his concern, really.

As they left the building, Matthew spotted a luxurious black limousine parked at the exact same spot where he had fixed himself in front of a Ferrari. He tilted his head a bit, something Emily pointed out to him as a weird habit he did when he was interested in something.

"Wait here…" Arthur commanded.

Matthew nodded absentmindedly as he watched Arthur walk up to the black limousine and knock on its pristine front window.

"Mind coming out, Antonio?" he heard him say.

Just then, the door to the driver's seat swung open and Matthew could see the back of a man's head. He turned around and leaned lazily on the limousine.

"Sorry 'bout that, _amigo._ Couldn't sleep last night with _mi tomato_ looking so cute beside me."

Arthur rolled his eyes at the Spaniard before walking back to Matthew and guiding him towards the limousine. He was secretly amused at how the blonde could continue to stare at the car without getting bored of seeing its black hue.

He became more amused after he introduced Matthew to Antonio, his driver. He never thought that someone as quiet as Matthew would become so talkative after only a minute.

"Wow! You're Spanish? That explains the slightly tanned skin! I thought that you just got yourself tanned at the beach! I was even gonna ask how you ended up so evenly tanned!"

Antonio raised his green eyes to the rear view mirror and smiled at the sight of the wide-eyed Canadian. He'd never had that kind of reaction whenever he told someone he was Spanish. The boy (uh, girl) seemed oddly spirited about it.

"_Si, se__ñorita. _I'm proud of my skin. Serves as a symbol of Spain. But, no one has ever told me that he thought I got tanned at the beach. That's one funny idea you got there."

Matthew blushed, hurriedly covering his mouth. "S-S-Sorry…" he stammered, "Things just slip out of my mouth when I get excited. I-I-I really didn't mean to insult you or anything…"

"No _hija! _You didn't insult me! You just surprised me. Never in my life have I imagined that Arthur here would bring such a funny girl into this car!"

Matthew looked at Arthur, expecting that the man would say something. He was shocked to see the stern man laugh, kicking the driver's seat jokingly.

"Shut up, Antonio."

Matthew found himself silent, listening to the words the two older men were exchanging. Despite Antonio being one of his employees, Arthur regarded him in such an informal way that someone who didn't know the relationship between the two would think they were old friends.

_So, he really isn't as much of a tyrant as I thought he was. There seems to be more to this person than meets the eye. I wonder… What's he like when he's with the parents? I guess he must be angry with them. They did get him into this situation... I wonder if he's cold to them now...  
_

And thus Matthew began to imagine. He saw Arthur talking leisurely with his parents, playing golf with his dad and silently mumbling as he helped his mom with the dishes. He was so busy laughing at his own thoughts he hadn't noticed that the limousine had stopped.

"It's time to get out, Emily…" Arthur's voice interrupted his daydream.

"O-Oh, yes…"

The car door opened and Matthew gave a tiny curtsy as a 'thank you' to Antonio for opening it for him. As he got out, he realized he was in front of the Bonnefoy Medical Center where his mom had been hospitalized for over tow weeks now.

"Why are we here?" he asked as Arthur took his arm.

"We're here to visit your mother, darling. We wouldn't want her to worry about her little maple now, do we?"

Matthew's stomach tightened as he unwillingly let Arthur slide his arm through his own. He let the man lead him to the receptionist, who surprised him by letting the annoying Brit know where his mother was kept even though the woman's visitors were only limited to family.

"How did you manage to sneak into my mother's visitor list?" Matthew hissed.

"I paid her bills, remember?"

"You're an ass, do you know that?"

"You have no clue how many people have called me that…"

Matthew sulked silently. He noticed that they had missed the section where he was supposed to turn right to get into his mother's room. He abruptly stopped and shook Arthur's arm.

"Wait! _Maman's_ room is that way! We're going the wrong way, Arthur!" he informed him, tugging at his arm.

"It seems I forgot to inform you. Oh, deary me…" Arthur muttered, "I transferred your mother to a private room. I couldn't stand the thought of my future mother-in-law wallowing away in a room filled with a dozen patients. How would she sleep with all that racket?"

"You did what?! You could've at least told me in the limo!"

"Be glad I told you now." was his reply, "Now please stop sulking and follow me…"

Matthew grudgingly followed him towards a slightly brighter hallway to a large white door with his mother's name on it. Arthur gestured towards it and Matthew took it as a sign that he should be the one to knock. He did so and was greeted by Emily.

"Hi, Matt. What the hell took ya so long? Got stuck in New York traffic? Oh, wait, you take the subway! Hahahahaha! Got stuck in subway traffic? Wait, that never happens! Anyways, I thought you'd never come back. Where did you-"

Her breathless talking stopped when she caught sight of Arthur's arm possessively wrapped around Matthew's shoulder. Her expression changed from smiling to deadly in less than a second. Matthew saw her curl her fist and draw it towards Arthur's face when-

"Stop, Em!"

It stopped inches away from the Brit's face. Matthew looked from his sister to Arthur's unfazed expression and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Emily. Listen. This is-"

"Oh, I know him!" Emily interrupted her brother, "Arthur Kirkland. The grouchy and downright arrogant head of KGC. There are a lot of girls after him but I didn't know you were one of 'em, Matt!"

Matthew's brow twitched. "Emily, it's not what you think…" he began slowly, "Why don't you think back to when you answered that silly ad on the newspaper…"

"Oh, you mean the one about the-"

"Yeah, that one. Well, you see…" he tried to find some other way to say it, "Arthur. Well, he… How can I put this without insulting anyone?"

"I was the one who put the silly ad and unfortunately I ended up choosing you, or as circumstances might have it, your brother as my wife-to-be…." Arthur finished, "Therefore it's bloody insulting for you to almost punch me and then call me 'grouchy' and 'arrogant'…"

Matthew winced at the man's reaction. Emily, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy his anger. "I don't care who you are nor do I care about the ad you put up. I don't want you anywhere near my Mattie so get your filthy hands off of him!"

Another World War was about to break out when Madeline William's voice came bouncing in.

"Emily, stop fighting with the man who paid your credit card bills. Unless you want to pay them for yourself…"

Emily froze. She slowly raised her pointer finger straight at Arthur's face, stammering: "**Y-Y-You **paid for all our b-b-bills?"

Arthur nodded. Emily pretended to barf. Matthew stayed quiet and waited for either of them to realize that it was better to talk inside the room.

"Matthew, I suggest you tell the nice young man to come in. Emily, move aside and let them in…."

Matthew silently thanked his mother for reading the atmosphere without really seeing it. Emily simply rolled her eyes and opened the door wider. She trudged towards the empty chair beside her mother's bed and let her body slump on top of it.

"I say it's quite an honour to finally meet you, Mrs. Williams…" Arthur greeted with a warm smile. He walked towards the hospital bed and kissed the older woman's right hand.

"Better put alcohol on that, Mom. Wouldn't want you to get arrogantitis… " Emily mumbled.

"Hush, darling. I'm sure the man will explain his actions very shortly."

"You're a wise woman, Mrs. Williams. I take it that you're aware as to the reason for your son's attire this afternoon?"

Madeline looked over to Matthew who was leaning on the wall behind Emily's chair. She raised a questioning eyebrow at the very feminine handbag he was clutching and he just shrugged in response.

"You don't look good in that, _mon petite maple_. I thought you had better fashion sense than that, Em…" she said I a serious tone.

Emily giggled. "He refused to wear a skirt! What was I supposed to do? Besides, the skinny jeans frame his ass well. And everyone knows his ass has always been better than mine!"

Matthew blushed when he caught the smile on Arthur's lips. Trust Emily to say the most embarrassing things at the most inappropriate of times. He sunk farther and farther into the wall, if that was physically possible, and hid his face within his turtleneck.

"As you may already know, Mrs. Williams, your vivacious daughter thought it would be a great laugh to answer my very serious ad in the paper. And when I read her resumé and personal history, the latter oddly sounding like Matthew's life story, I decided she was the kind of woman my parents would approve of and immediately sought after her. After further investigation, I realized the picture she had sent me was not of her. Rather, it was of Matthew. And as to how he ended up in women's clothes that is for your daughter to explain…"

"Hey, leave me outta this!" Emily interrupted.

"If I may continue…"

Madeline nodded in response.

"The picture aside, I thought it would be fair to at least give Matthew a chance and therefore arranged for him to meet my attorney. My attorney somehow convinced him to come and meet me earlier today. We had a little chat in my office and came to an agreement that he is to **pretend **to be my 'fiancée' until my parents become convinced that I know how to choose women and would allow me to marry the woman of my choice. As simple as that…"

"And what of my son? I know he's only agreeing to do this because you paid all our bills. But, I'm still concerned for his welfare. Can you guarantee he is not hurt during this little charade of yours?"

"You have my word."

Madeline looked over at Matthew, concern clouding her amethyst eyes. Matthew gave her a weak nod.

"I'll be alright. He won't hurt me." he mouthed, making sure Arthur didn't see him.

"Very well, then. Since my son seems to trust you and you look like a fine young man, I'll take your word." Madeline announced.

Emily growled. "But if I see one single tear escape from Mattie's face, a single bruise or scar or even just a change of pitch in his voice you're good as dead Kirkland!" she threatened through barred teeth.

Matthew laughed nervously. His mother had just freely given him to a man whom he just met and his sister is actually fine with it. Emily usually put up a fight or complained about 'her Mattie' being dragged away from her 'hero's field of vision'. Yet, they were so calm about it. They didn't even react when Arthur put his arm around his waist and lead him out of the room. Except for Emily's audible grunt, they both seemed to be fine with it. It was either they gave up on him or Arthur was just too damn charming for them to deny. Either way, Matthew's freedom was crushed and there was no way he could get it back.

* * *

"And where are we going now?" Matthew asked when he saw that they just passed his apartment on Sixth Avenue.

"I thought it would be nice to take you out to dinner. You look as thin as a man suffering from the Plague back in Europe."

Antonio couldn't help but laugh as Matthew blushed and put a hand protectively over his flat stomach, just as Arthur predicted. The Brit bit back a chuckle when Matthew started feeling other parts of his body including his cheeks, arms and even his thighs.

"For your information, I only lost weight because my _Maman _got hospitalized and I overworked myself taking care of her." he puffed up his cheeks childishly, "I assure you I'm perfectly healthy. And just so you know, I've learned all about the Plague back when I was in middle school and the people suffering from it weren't as thin as me!"

"You're thinner, then?"

Antonio laughed again. Arthur felt himself grin, satisfied at the stubborn look on Matthew's face as he grunted at the car window. Arthur honestly thought the boy looked cute at that angle, but he wouldn't admit it. Definitely not to a man who could easily growl at him like a she-wolf.

The rest of the drive passed by uneventfully considering that Matthew refused to talk to Arthur and would only direct his gaze at the rapidly moving buildings he could see outside the window. The man didn't mind and only disturbed him when Antonio had already pulled up in front of a fancy seafood restaurant on New York's City Island.

"Matthew, if you would kindly remove your interest on my window and follow me…" he asked, tilting his head towards the restaurant.

Matthew muttered a soft 'humph!' before stepping out of the car as Antonio once again held the door for him.

_Okay, Mr. Eyebrows, let's see if you'll still want me when I refuse to eat anything you buy for me. After all, what's a few hundred dollars worth to you? _

He smiled. He managed to convince himself not to eat anything, even if his stomach growled in protest, just to get on the Brit's nerves. He even refused to take the latter's hand and ascended the steps towards the establishment by himself. He tried not to look impressed when the head waiter directed to a secluded area of the room with a highly romantic atmosphere. And when the menus were handed out, he simply looked at his as if it was trash and didn't bother to pick it up.

"What would you like to eat, darling?" Arthur asked.

Matthew raised an eyebrow, challenging him. He was not gonna allow himself to be this man's dinner companion. Not when he had earlier insulted him and then charmed his family into letting him be the bastard's fiancée.

Arthur was smart enough not to give in to his anger. He just shrugged and ordered for the stubborn blonde.

"I'm not letting you win this time, **Miss Jones**…" he whispered, smirking.

When the meals arrived, Matthew tried desperately not to look at the succulent lobster before him. As Arthur urged him to start eating, he shook his head vigorously ignoring the growl from the depths of his stomach.

"Suit yourself." Arthur said as he started to take a bit out of his own lobster.

Matthew watched him eat for five minutes after which he gave up and began to eat as well. He ignored the fact that Arthur gave a triumphant chuckle and just continued eating.

As the desserts where being wheeled in, Arthur became determined to change his partner's murderous aura into something befitting his pretty face. He started asking questions about Matthew's work, careful not to refer to him as 'Mr. Williams' rather as 'Miss Jones'. Sadly, the younger man just gave him monosyllabic answers and refused to elaborate anything.

The conversation gradually turned into a monologue as Arthur talked about his work-related experiences. He talked about Antonio and the many fights they used to have way back when. He talked about Lovino whom he introduced as his personal cook and Antonio's lover, earning a slightly surprised look from Matthew. He babbled on about his other employees, how he enjoyed putting them into positions that would suit their tastes and quirky personalities.

Matthew giggled at this, pointing out some of the stereotypes he too was used to working with. He then began to talk about his funny childhood and the many adventures Emily got him into. He found out that Arthur Kirkland was a very good listener; he looked as if he was genuinely interested in all his strange childhood days with Emily that Matthew suspected that it was just one of the many ways Arthur tricked people. But somewhere along their talk Matthew simply refused to care. The man's charm was so strong that Matthew found himself ignoring all the vows he made about not talking to him.

They continued exchanging different life stories. When Arthur brought up his love for literature Matthew couldn't help himself and gave a tiny squeal of excitement.

"I see you're interested in literature." Arthur commented.

"I always have. I even have more than three bookshelves at home filled top to bottom of works by Edgar Allan Poe, Charles Dickens, Shakespeare and the like." Matthew informed him.

"It's glad to see that I'm not the only one in America that reads those kinds of books."Arthur joked to which Matthew surprisingly laughed.

The night went by so quickly that Matthew had no time to bask in his happiness. He was floating on cloud nine when they arrived at his apartment. His brain had automatically deleted the scene from Arthur's office and the talk they had with his mother from the hospital. And as Arthur walked him to the door, Matthew had to slap himself for thinking:

_I want to him to kiss me good night. I mean to literally __**kiss **__me not just to graze his mouth over mine._

He looked up at him, trying to erase the image of Arthur planting a kiss on his mouth. "T-T-Thank you for dinner, Arthur. I surprisingly enjoyed it…" he joked trying to get rid of the butterflies in his stomach.

"I enjoyed it as well. But you do not need to thank me. After all, it is my duty to keep all my livestock fed and healthy. Savvy?" despite the harsh words his tone was teasing and he was smiling.

Matthew blushed, finding the insult to be a mere joke, and fished around his bag for the keys. Arthur took it from him and opened the door himself, much to Matthew's surprise. He even had the nerve to tease the younger blonde, holding his keys up high so that the latter had to jump a little bit for him to be able to reach it. With a laugh, Arthur tilted up Matthew's chin and placed a long, lingering kiss on his forehead before returning the keys to the now blushing blonde.

"Don't be so depressed, love. This will not be the last you'll see of me…" he whispered against the boy's red forehead, "Antonio will be driving you to work for a few days to remind you that I'm still watching over you. Now good night and have sweet dreams, pet." He grabbed Matthew's right hand and left another lingering kiss on his palm before winking and turning to leave.

As Matthew locked the door behind him, he realized that he was smitten. He shook his head vigorously and reminded himself that the man was a tyrant who blackmailed him into working for him and not the charming Prince who left lingering kisses on his body.

He slumped on his bed, not even caring that he got wrinkles all over his sister's turtleneck. He happily drowned himself in his favorite polar bear's fluffy white fur. He had to admit it; he had developed a slight crush on the creepy man with mood swings. But, he wouldn't call it love. It was just a simple, innocent crush that a teenage girl would develop on a boy in her class.

He tried not to think of the many ways Arthur could get him to fall in love with him. No way was he going to give the Brit the pleasure of having is…

_Mon __dieu__, what am I thinking? Why? No! No! No! Get rid of those dirty thoughts, Matthew! Get rid of them! Argh!_

He tossed and turned in bed, shaking his head in the process. He might be ignorant to adult romance but he wasn't stupid. He would never allow himself to fall for Arthur Kirkland. And no matter how charming he might be he would only limit himself to a feeling of respect and nothing romantic. When he had finished mentally arguing with himself, he drifted off to undisturbed sleep.

* * *

**K/N:** So, I actually finished the 2nd Chapter before hand just in case people tell me to continue the story. But it isn't like I _expected_ a positive reaction from you guys. My original plan for this was to write it for myself and read it when my internet gets shut off. *sigh* But I ended it up posting it here anyway... *shakes head* Why _did_ I post it here? I don't even remember anymore...


	3. Chapter 3

**K/ N: **I'm seriously continuing this? Even with all my pending fanfics? Man, I must really love this pairing! (Of course I love UKCan~) Ooh! I even put some UKCan loving in this chapter! And, yes, Arthur's the seme.

* * *

Three days had passed since Matthew Williams last saw the inevitably charming Arthur Kirkland. But to his great annoyance, Antonio Fernandez Carriedo carried out the Brit's instructions down to the letter and Matthew found himself riding in a fancy limousine everyday. The only thing that prevented him from ignoring the Spaniard and taking the train was the taught of Arthur suddenly showing up and blackmailing him with pictures Emily had carelessly given him.

Antonio had been very considerate, though. One morning, when Matthew asked him to "park as far away from me as possible", the Spaniard just laughed and told him he would be waiting two blocks from his workplace. Matthew thought it was a good arrangement and readily agreed.

After some random talk about Antonio's mother land, Matthew tired to pry some information about his elusive English fiancé. "How long have you and Arthur known each other?" he asked casually.

"Arthur and I go way back. We went to the same high school and even studied in the same college together. Ah, those were the days!" Antonio replied in a sing-song voice.

"But, why are you working for him? And for how long?" Matthew continued.

"Ah, that brings back memories. I'm only doing this for a bet I lost two years ago. Arthur had won against me and Francis and in exchange we offered our services to him for two years. That reminds me, the two years end this November!" Antonio chatted almost endlessly.

Matthew giggled at the man's joyful aura. "Well… Since you've known each other for quite a long time…" he paused, "Can you tell me what's wrong with Arthur? I mean, he could easily get himself a pretty girlfriend and then marry her. Why go through all this trouble?"

_And for a guy, no less?_

"I'm sorry, _señorita _Jones; I don't think I can answer that. You see, Arthur and I may fight sometimes but we never talk about each other's personal lives. I'll be happy to talk about my life back in Spain and my little Lovi some more. Just don't ask about Arthur, he might cast one of his spells on me!"

Matthew laughed nervously, acknowledging Antonio's joke. But, it was hard to ignore the ice in his tone. From then on, he avoided questions about Arthur Kirkland and enjoyed the way Antonio talked endlessly about his Italian lover; Lovino. He loved the way the man's eyes lit up whenever he mentioned how cute Lovino was. Matthew began to wonder if Arthur's eyes would also light up if he talked about someone he loved. He quickly dismissed the thought when Antonio noticed him blushing.

"I don't think I wanna ride in this limousine anymore!" Matthew joked one day as he stepped out of the Cadillac and into the streets.

"_Porque?_" Antonio asked. Matthew raised an eyebrow and he repeated the word, in English this time, "Why?"

"I have a feeling that I'll be spoiled rotten! I don't wanna be like that!" Matthew whined in the most feminine voice he could muster.

"Well, that's the idea…" Antonio answered. Matthew wondered if his words had another meaning.

* * *

"Birdie?"

Matthew looked up from his pile of I-Don't-Think-I-Can-Finish-All-This paperwork and smiled as he caught sight of a white haired man leaning by the doorway of his office.

"Hi, Gil!" he greeted as the albino walked closer towards him, "Something wrong? You don't usually come to see me in the middle of work."

Gilbert Beilschmidt laughed, tossing himself up Matthew's desk. "What's with the greeting, Birdie? You're supposed to say 'I've missed you, Gil! Why didn't you come up to see me sooner?' I would've liked that more, ya know."

Matthew rolled his eyes, pretending to ignore Gilbert's try at flirting. He had to admit Gilbert was cute, just not his type. He gathered up his papers in one big bundle and turned on his chair to face Gilbert. The albino smiled down at him, tucking that almost-always stray curl that fell on his face.

"Did you come here just to flirt with me, Gil?" Matthew teased, swatting the Prussian's hand away.

"Well, that's kinda true…" Gilbert winked, sending a streak of red to appear on Matthew's face. "Unfortunately, Mr. Awesome is here to tell ya Luddy's lookin' for ya…"

Matthew titled his head. "Luddy?"

"_Ja_, _mein bruder…_" Gilbert answered. Matthew gave him another questioning look. "Oh, right. I meant Ludwig. Sorry…"

"Ludwig? What would he want me for?" Matthew could feel a sense of discomfort growing in the pits of his stomach. Ludwig was the head of the company, someone who could hardly even remember his name. What did Gilbert do to get him into trouble?

"Gil… What did you do?" he sighed, looking up at the grinning German (er, Prussian) sitting on his desk. "How did Ludwig actually know I exist? Scratch that. What did you do to remind Ludwig I exist?"

Gilbert faked a surprised look. "Birdie! How could you think it was my fault?!"

"Because it always is, Gilbert…"

"Well, not this time." Gilbert hopped off the desk and slid an arm over Matthew's shoulder. "Relax, Birdie. Luddy just wants to talk to you. You're not in trouble, trust me…"

Matthew's shoulders relaxed and he gave Gilbert a small, shy smile. "I'm sorry, Gil. I guess I've just been a bit jumpy lately. I didn't mean to accuse you or anything…"

Gilbert squeezed his shoulder affectionately. "Don't worry, Mattie. I totally understand…"

"_Merci."_

Matthew smiled, shrugging of Gilbert's hand. He felt happy that Gilbert didn't get angry when he accused him of something he didn't do. But, Matthew couldn't help but feel bad when Gilbert said he understood his mood swings.

_Understand? Ha! I pretty sure he doesn't even know what I've been through. Oh, well. Gilbert's sweet and I guess I need a friend to get rid of the image of those eyebrows out of my head._

"Bye, Mattie…"

Matthew stopped by the door, looked back and smiled. "I won't take long, Gil. What's with the sad face?" he replied, shaking his head. When Gilbert didn't reply, he sighed and walked out into the empty corridors.

* * *

Matthew made his way through the carpeted corridors and came to an expensive set of doors with Ludwig Beilschmidt's name in big bold letters. He let out a short breath and timidly knocked at the door. He listened as the sound of his knuckles echoed through the corridor, waiting for the man inside to give him a response.

"Come in, Matthew" a stern male voice replied. He slowly opened the door to see Ludwig Beilschmidt sitting on an expensive leather chair, his hands placed sophisticatedly on his desk. Arthur Kirkland was leaning casually on the side of the desk. They both looked at him as he stood there, gaping by the door.

Arthur walked over to him, slid his hand over his waist and placed a lingering, obviously-we're-not-just-friends kind of kiss on his lips. "It's nice to see you again, Matthew…" he whispered into his ear, making the Canadian blush.

Ludwig coughed, catching Matthew off guard. "Would you mind closing the door, Matthew?" he asked, his blue eyes looking rather confused at Arthur.

Matthew nodded wordlessly, wriggling out of Arthur's hold to gently close the door. Once that was finished, he turned directly at Arthur, a questioning look on his bright amethyst eyes. "Arthur…" he began, "Just what are you up to?"

Ludwig's blue eyes momentarily widened as Arthur filled the silence of the room with his laughter. "Whatever do you mean, love?" he asked, regaining his hold on Matthew's waist, "If you think I'm planning something that is not to your liking, I can easily prove you wrong!"

"Excuse me."

Ludwig interrupted before Matthew could even get one single insult out of his mouth. He blushed, realizing he was about to have an argument with Arthur in front of his boss. And when he recalled the way Arthur greeted him, he blushed even more.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Beilschmidt!" he apologized, bowing. "G-G-Gilbert told me you wanted to see me?"

"Ah, yes. I sent _bruder_ to inform you, right?" Ludwig ran a trembling hand through his hair, sighing, "I'm really sorry, Matthew. I didn't mean to scare you by calling for you so suddenly…"

"Oh, I understand!" Matthew interrupted, "Gil didn't tell me why you called for me, though…"

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Gil?"

Matthew could feel the ice in his tone. "Y-Y-Yeah… G-G-Gilbert told me to call him that…"

"And why would you call him that?"

Matthew could feel anger rising up his chest. "It's because we're friends! There's nothing wrong with that!"

"Of course there is nothing wrong with it…"

Ludwig coughed again. "Arthur, don't do anything reckless to my brother…" he warned, his voice filled with carefully suppressed murderous intent. Matthew didn't receive the same kind of voice; Ludwig chose to talk to him in a friendly manner. "I think it would be best if Arthur would be the one to tell you why you're here, Matthew."

"Arthur?" Matthew pouted; something he knew would make the Brit tremble.

"Stop pouting, Matthew. I am well aware of Ludwig's presence and I do not want him to see what I plan to do to you if you do not stop pouting." He smirked, sending shivers down Matthew's spine. "Ludwig, I don't think Matthew would even spare me ten seconds. Would it not be best if you were to tell him?"

"It's your plan, Arthur, not mine…"

Matthew opened his mouth to say something but was immediately distracted by Arthur's hand moving from his hips to his shoulder, gripping them tightly. He couldn't help but feel annoyed at how his body reacted with his touch.

"And what a jolly plan it is, Ludwig…" Arthur laughed, redirecting Matthew to the door, "But, seeing that neither of us wants to enlighten poor Matthew, I'll just be taking him home now. Thank you for letting him out of work early, Ludwig. Antonio has already fetched his bag, yes?"

Ludwig nodded. "Do you think I should tell Elizaveta about, well, about you? I'm sure she'll go crazy about it…"

Arthur laughed. Matthew was surprised at how genuine it sounded. "Elizaveta can wait. She's still fretting about the honeymoon Feliciano's planning for Christmas. I doubt she still has time to dwell on my marriage…"

Goodbyes were said between the two men, but Matthew just let the whole scene wash over him. He was still in shock at Arthur's last words. How could the man kiss him in front of his own boss? And there was that mention of marriage.

_How much has he told Ludwig? Does Gilbert know? Is that the reason why Gilbert had such a sad face earlier? And what was that about marriage? Does this mean he really __**is **__planning to marry me? Oh God no!_

Matthew was seldom angry. Emily had even stated in her fourth grade essay that Matthew was incapable of anger. But Arthur Kirkland changed all that the moment his emerald eyes and thick eyebrows caught Matthew's attention. And now his temper had finally started to rise.

He was so caught up in his anger that he barely even noticed that Arthur had led him to a private exit and was now directing his body towards Ludwig's private elevator. But something snapped within him and he turned on his companion, cheeks red with anger.

"You arrogant, self-centered, pompous bastard! How could you kiss me like that in front of my own boss?! How could you just carelessly mention something about marriage?! How-" he yelled, arms flying in rage.

Arthur interrupted, "What if Ludwig saw me kiss you? I would not give a damn even if the Queen herself saw me kiss you."

This bored, slightly annoyed interruption drove Matthew over the edge. He clenched his teeth and slapped him as hard as he could across his cheek. "From Vash…" he hissed, amused at the red marks his dainty hands left on the Brit's skin, "With love…"

Arthur was stunned, but it didn't take him more than a second to grab Matthew's wrist and pull his arms over his head. Matthew struggled to free himself from his grip, kicking him viciously in the shin. The next moment he found himself pinned against the wall and Arthur's hard body, his right hand holding both his arms in position. His eyes grew wide as he wriggled, twisted and kicked. He was too out of breath to even start an argument. Arthur was way too strong and all of Matthew's attempts to free himself proved to be useless.

"A-Arthur…" he managed to say, his voice hoarse and scared.

Arthur grinned, gripping Matthew's wrist tighter. "I would think twice about slapping a completely innocent man, Matthew…" his voice was laced with anger and amusement.

"I-I-I-I…" Matthew could feel his heart beat faster as he watched Arthur's free hand slide down his thigh. "I'm... I'm…"

"You are what, Matthew?"

Matthew unintentionally moaned as Arthur's hand froze right above his vital regions. He looked up at the man, staring into his hungry emerald eyes. His vision grew blurry, his breath fogged up his glasses, his limbs trembling. Arthur enjoyed the view of his cute prey.

"I'm s-so-sorry for… For slapping you…" Matthew croaked.

"Now, isn't that better?" Arthur groaned into Matthew's ear. His hand pressed down on the space between Matthew's thighs, massaging the growing bulge there.

"Arthur… S-S-Stop! I-I-I said I was sorry!" The Canadian begged, his legs almost giving in to the pleasure.

The Briton smirked and pressed his lips hungrily on Matthew's. The latter clenched his teeth, preventing Arthur from reaching the inner sanctum of his mouth. But he persisted, coaxing Matthew's teeth until he opened them slightly, giving him the chance to stick his tongue into the sweet abyss of his maple-flavored mouth

At once a battle for dominance began as both tongues tried to push back the other. Arthur easily won. Matthew had never been the type to be aggressive. He just submitted himself to Arthur, not anymore caring when the man finally let go of his arms. Instead of pushing the Brit away, Matthew laced his arms around Arthur's neck and pulled him closer.

Matthew closed his eyes, giving into the pleasure he was feeling. He couldn't help but feel a pang of hurt when Arthur slightly backed away.

"Are you enjoying this, Matthew?" he whispered into his ear, making Matthew shiver at the touch of his hot breath on his skin.

"Do I have to answer?" Matthew whispered, gripping his hair tighter.

"Now, now Matthew, you have to be honest… Or I will be forced to stop…"

"Why are you teasing me, Arthur?" he cried, his voice sounding as innocent as a child. Arthur stared at his pleading violet eyes, his slightly open collar and his pouting mouth. That cute, simply irresistible pouting mouth.

"You're pouting."

"It's because I want you…"

"Bloody hell, Matthew…"

Arthur pushed him harder against the wall and Matthew tightened his already deathly grip on Arthur's back. He put his lips back on the Canadian's parted ones, making Matthew grind himself on Arthur's body. Arthur slid his other free hand over Matthew's chest, unbuttoning his shirt and running his hands over the blonde's hard nipples. Matthew moaned into the Brit's mouth, pushing himself up against his body. Arthur redirected his other hand from the Canadian's vital regions to his ass, cupping one cheek to press him against his crotch. Matthew trembled slightly but Arthur steadied him by pressing him even harder against the wall.

Just when Matthew thought he would die if Arthur didn't touch him, the man's hands froze. He removed them from Matthew's chest and ass, separated his lips from Matthew's and coldly turned his back on the stunned Canadian. Matthew stared at his back, his brain doing its best to process what happened. The only thing he managed to do was to nudge his fogged glasses higher up his nose.

Arthur busied himself with his suit, trying to get rid of its wrinkles. He pulled of his loose tie off and rewound it around his neck. He ran a hand through his sandy blonde hair and sighed.

"Time is running, Matthew. Button your shirt, we have somewhere to go..." his voice was cold, emotionless.

"B-B-But..." Matthew could feel tears pricking at his eyes. He couldn't help but feel so used, so damn stupid for actually believing Arthur would fuck him. And just a few meters away from Ludwig's office, no less!

"Now, Matthew."

With a sniffle, Matthew quickly buttoned his shirt, his eyes staring blankly at the carpeted floor. He felt small, vulnerable, humiliated. He refused to meet the Brit's eyes, afraid that he might see a hint of pity on them. He didn't need his pity; it would make him feel even worse. Besides, he already felt downright ignorant when he thought Arthur might actually have taken a liking to him.

_You're just a doll, Matthew, remember? When he's done playing with you, he'll throw you away. You'll be used, broken, and he won't even care. Learn to live with it._

"Can you hurry up, Matthew?" His tone was cold, distant, bored.

Matthew wasn't able to answer. All he could do was look up at him, one tear flowing down his red cheek. He didn't care that Arthur was seeing him in his weakest state. He just wanted the arrogant bastard to know he had hurt him.

Arthur simply rolled his eyes, rummaging in his pocket for a tissue. He held it up at Matthew's eye level. "Wipe that tear away, love, it's unsightly…" he ordered, disgusted.

Matthew simply obeyed, gingerly taking the tissue from the older man's hands. He dabbed at the corners of his eyes as Arthur watched. He muttered an impatient "You're bloody slow!" and grabbed the tissue from the blonde's hands, drying the tears himself. Throwing the wet thing on the floor, he all but dragged Matthew across the hallway and into the elevator.

* * *

The black Cadillac was waiting for them in front of the building. Matthew was far too dazed to think of escape. He didn't even return Antonio's "_Hola, señorita Jones!_" for fear that tears would once again fall from his eyes. He didn't want to make a bigger fool of himself by bursting into tears right in the middle of one of the busy streets of New York.

Arthur directed the Spaniard in a laconic voice, "We're going to Feliciano's house, Antonio." Then he made himself comfortable in the seat, pulling some papers out of a leather briefcase, acting as if nothing happened. As if what he had done to Matthew earlier was something as simple as stepping on grass.

Matthew huddled closer to the window behind Antonio, making sure he was as far from Arthur as possible. He didn't give a damn about where Arthur was taking him. He felt like some rebellious child whose parents decided he would be sent to Juvenile Hall but decided not to tell him anything. Matthew wished he was alone in his room, free to cry his heart out and to complain to his ever lovable polar bear.

When he felt Arthur's hand touch his hair, he turned to face him, hurt and disgust reflected in his amethyst eyes. His arrogance was driving him crazy. Who gave him the right to touch her whenever he found it convenient?

"Why can't you leave me alone?" he screamed, "I know it's easy for you to forget what happened, you're obviously used to it! But I'm not like you, I need time to forget! Can't you leave me alone till then?"

His answer caught her off guard. He spoke like a father trying to reassure his daughter that her pet puppy would live. "I humbly asked Ludwig to let you out of work early because I plan on taking you to England with me this weekend. My Mum and Dad are expecting to meet you in our country house in Cambridge. I want to discuss some important issues with them, but other than that, my motives are entirely for pleasure. England might not sound as sunny as Florida, but it will do. You do like the outdoors, do you not?"

Matthew raised his eyebrow, not believing a single word he said. The deeper he plunged into Arthur's world, the more complicated the man becomes. The man could make him beg for pleasure one minute then make him wish that he could be invisible the next. And now he was taking him to England to meet his parents. There must be some loose screw somewhere in his mind.

He rolled his eyes. "You're crazy, do you know that? I'm not going anywhere with you. Not now, not this weekend, not forever!"

Arthur let out a disgusted sigh, and then smiled as he reached out to twirl a stray strand of Matthew's wavy blond hair between his fingers. "Are you sure, Matthew? Why not think about it first? Imagine what it would feel like to ride horses along the countryside, to feel the wind blowing through your hair. Does that not sound appealing to you?"

Matthew couldn't help but want to knock that seductive grin right out of the bastard's face.

Arthur continued. "I informed your Mother earlier this morning. She is rather excited about it. She just wants you happy, Matthew. You should thank her before we leave."

"Is that so, Arthur?" Matthew tried to sound bored, "And I'm sure you told Emily too, huh? You must be some smooth talker to actually get my sister to let me out of her radar. Oh, wait! You **are **good with words! After all, you were able to tell Ludwig we're dating without him being disgusted to know I'm gay!"

Antonio laughed, causing Matthew to look at him through the rear view mirror. "I-I-I'm sorry, _hija_, go on talking…" he chuckled again, dismissing Matthew's look with a wave of his hand.

"If you would have been patient, Matthew, I would have explained everything earlier…" Arthur replied, "Ludwig would never be disgusted at you, even if you were gay. Ludwig himself is, well, how should I say this?

"Luddy's dating Feli, _hija_. And they're both guys. Luddy will be fine with you being gay! Wait, isn't that supposed to be lesbian? You're a girl after all!" Antonio interrupted.

Matthew quickly nodded. "_O-Oui…_ I-I'm a girl after all…" he stammered, impressed at how simple minded Antonio was. He actually thought Matthew simply confused "gay" with "lesbian" and not that Matthew was actually male.

Arthur smiled. "Are you alright **now**, Matthew?" he asked softly, nicely.

Matthew shook his head. "Not completely." He looked out the car window into the traffic outside, and began painfully. "I have feelings, Arthur. You just can't… Can't expect me to be alright with anything and everything you do to me. I'm not a doll. I'm human. A human being who's not used to the world you live in. You just-just can't turn me on one minute then yell at me the next. Give me time to cope up, to actually process what's happening. If you continue being like this, I'll break… Well, isn't that funny? I just said I'm not a doll but then I'm saying I'll break… Ha…"

Matthew could feel Arthur's hand stroke his head, reassuring him or something. He closed his eyes and relaxed his shoulders, once again allowing him to control his body.

"I'm terribly sorry, Matthew." His voice was soothing. "But, I am human as well. I also have feelings. If you do not want me to turn you on, don't do it to me as well. Are we clear?"

Matthew looked at him over his shoulder and nodded.

"Good." He smiled then went back to reading the papers still in his hand. "Feliciano has already prepared a suitcase for you. When we arrive at his house, I expect you to do everything Feliciano asks of you. And if by any chance Feliks is around, you are to follow him as well. Is that alright, Matthew?"

Matthew nodded, his energy completely drained. Arthur was once again telling him what to do, expecting him to obey every word. He was lucky Matthew didn't have the energy to start another argument. Nevertheless, Matthew was looking forward to a weekend in England. He'd never been anywhere but Canada and America. Besides, he'd rather go riding horseback than swimming.

"Aye, Captain Kirkland! I'll be doing whatever your first mate wants me to do, Cap'n!"

Arthur suppressed a chuckle. He looked over at the blonde who was looking at him, a glimmer in his violet eyes. "That be all, sailor. And ye better remember, me first mate has the right to throw ye overboard, savvy?" he replied in a highly accented pirate drawl.

Matthew laughed, playfully swatting the Brit's arm. He still couldn't fathom how Arthur did it, but he managed to make him forget about how he hurt him. And they just fell into a comfortable silence for the remainder of the trip.

* * *

**Additional: **Had to make a repost, since I forgot to specify where the one event ends and the other starts.


	4. Chapter 4

"What, like, took you so long?" A rather angry, high-pitched voice greeted Matthew the moment Arthur helped him out of the black limousine.

Matthew blinked for a few moments, unable to register what was happening around him. He remembered Arthur conversing with Antonio in the Cadillac. They were talking about some huge business proposal that Matthew couldn't care any less about. He thought he recalled Arthur saying something about "Feliciano's house" before Antonio started the engine. Matthew wasn't quite sure where they were, but judging from the European exterior of the apartment he was looking at, they were probably right in front on "Feliciano's house".

But, the red-faced, obviously angry blond woman standing by the doorway in a green miniskirt didn't quite fit Antonio's description of the always happy, pasta-loving auburn haired man he lovingly called "Feli-chan".

"Uhm… Are you Feliciano?" Matthew muttered under his breath as he finally reached the top of the apartment's marble stairway.

The blonde rolled her eyes, taking Matthew's hand in her own pretty, pink nail polished one. "I'm not Feli, silly!" she said, dragging Matthew into the building. "I mean, do I look like Feliciano to you? Well, do I?"

Matthew shook his head wordlessly, to shocked with the woman's forwardness to say a single word. He could hear the door shut behind him and Arthur's footsteps echoed in the rather large hallway. He looked back at the Brit, eyes pleading. The latter just sighed, shrugging his coat off and hanging it on the peg by the door.

"Feliks, I beg of you, please let go of poor Matthew…" Arthur sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

_Feliks? Wait, that's a guy's name! Wait… This blonde woman is a man! But… But… But!_

The woman, er man, let go of Matthew's hand and began to place his own on his slim hips. "I wasn't torturing him or anything!" he whined, sticking his tongue out. "Geez, Artie! You could be so possessive sometimes! You won't even let me touch him!"

Matthew turned to look at Arthur, amethyst eyes clouding with confusion. "Uhm…" he cleared his throat, unsure of what to say. "So… This girl is a 'he'? And he knows I'm male, too?"

Arthur nodded, his face looking very tired. "We can trust Feliks, love…" he assured him, petting his back for added comfort. "He might be a bit… Well, out there, at times. But, I assure you, we can trust him with our lives."

Feliks blushed, kicking an invisible rock on the wooden floor. "Aw, like, really Artie? You trust me that much?" he smiled, tilting his head in the process. "If only Liet, like, trusted me that way. Hmph! I'm pretty sure Liet wouldn't even trust me with the house, like, let alone his life!"

Arthur smiled. A warm, friendly, reassuring smile that sent shivers up Matthew's spine. He watched silently as Arthur patted Feliks head, saying things like "I'm sure Toris trusts you" and "You just have to trust him as well".

Feliks shrugged, turning his attention back at the blushing Canadian. He smiled, holding his hand up to give Matthew a thumbs-up. "_Witaj!_ I'm Feliks Lukasiewicz, nice to meet you!" he greeted, taking both Matthew's hands in his then shaking them roughly.

"Uhm, hello there! I'm Matthew Williams…" he greeted back, a nervous smile on his face. "By any chance… Are you Polish?"

Feliks' bottle green eyes widened. "Like, OMG! You're totally the first person to actually ask me that!" he exclaimed, laughing. "Other people just assume I'm Polish, or Russian, somebody stupid even mistook me for a German! Can you, like, believe that?! Anyway, to answer your question: Yes. I am Polish! And I am proud to be one!"

Matthew could feel swirls pool around his eyelids. He wasn't used to talkative people. Heck, even Emily gave him headaches when she started to talk. All he could do to reply to the Pole was to nod absentmindedly, not caring that Feliks was already dragging him towards a room at the end of the hallway. The last thing he remembered seeing was Arthur's smug grin before a door slammed right into his face.

* * *

"_Ciao, señorita!_" a man giggled from the room Matthew found himself locked in. He could hear the man giggle slightly, adding "Oops! I meant _señor_! Matthew is a guy, no?"

Matthew shook his head vigorously, trying to wipe away the pools of confusion in his eyes. He saw a lanky man sitting on the large bed in the middle of the room. He had smiling, olive green eyes and a bushel of silky, auburn hair that had one stray curl bobbing up and down on his left cheek. One glance at the curl and Matthew immediately knew this man was the owner of the huge apartment. This man was Feliciano.

"Feliciano Vargas?" Matthew asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Feliciano's eyes lit up. "Hi! _Si! _I'm Feliciano Vargas! It's really nice to meet you! And you must be Matthew, correct?" he smiled. Matthew nodded. "Arthur had told Ludwig a lot of stories about you! And of course, Ludwig shared the stories with me last time we had dinner. You really are a beautiful guy! I can't imagine how Arthur got his hands on you! Oh, wait, how **did **Arthur get his hands on you? Did he use his magic again? That's just mean! Making people fall in love with you using magic!"

Matthew could feel himself shrink with every word the endlessly slipped through Feliciano's mouth. He was getting dizzier and dizzier by the minute. Lucky for him, Feliks stepped in before Feliciano could continue speaking.

"Uhm, Feli. Could you, like, stop talking?" he joked, crossing his arms over his flat chest. "We're here to dress Matthew up. Not to make him dizzy with our mouths!"

Feliciano finally stopped talking and Matthew felt like he could breathe again. He stayed silent as Feliks guided him towards the bed and pushed him down until he was seated at the edge of it. Feliciano was smiling beside him, working his shoulder-length, wavy blonde hair. Feliks was standing right in front of him, his right hand poised over his chin and the other hand placed daintily above his waist.

"Now… What would look good on you?" he began to mutter, pacing around Matthew.

"Ooh! Ooh! Check in the closet, Feliks! I'm sure Arthur has bought **something** for him!" Feliciano cooed, his hand rubbing into Matthew's scalp. "Oh, Matthew, you have beautiful hair! It feels so soft and light, like an angel's feather!"

Matthew blushed, muttering a quiet "thank you" before looking over at Feliks who was bending over a large closet secluded to the right of the bedroom.

"What's your shoe size, Matthew?" Feliks suddenly asked, still not looking up from the closet.

"Uhm…" Matthew tilted his head to think for a while, "I'm a size 8*… But I can squeeze into a size 7…"

Feliks popped his head out of the closet, giving Matthew a smile. "That's totally perfect! I'm a size 8, so you can, like, fit my shoes!" he rejoiced, going back to the closet to pull out two pairs of high-heels, a pair of red Converse high tops, three pairs of low-heeled sandals and a pair of knee-length leather riding boots.

Matthew swallowed the lump on his throat, staring down at the shoes as if they were aliens ready to force him to wear them. "D-D-Do I have to wear those?" he dare asked, his eyes resting on his abused pair of faded Converse sneakers.

Feliks rolled his eyes. "You, like, totally have to!" he put in, hands on hips. "You have to look absolutely fabulous for Artie's parents to want you! Don't you, like, want them to like you or something? You can't marry Arthur if, like, his parents disapprove. And one thing I know about Mr. and Mrs. K are that they're, like, super strict when it comes to fashion. Especially Mrs. K! She can be a total shark!"

Matthew couldn't help but giggle at the animated way Feliks talked. He almost didn't notice that Feliciano had already let go of his hair and was now sitting in front of a large dresser, pulling out what seemed to be a large, white box.

"Arthur bought this for you yesterday, Matthew…" He informed, dropping the box on the floor. "He looked to scary when he told Luddy to hide it that I thought it was a box of cocaine or something! Thank God I opened it last night to see what it was! _Tu sei__così fortunato,__Matteo__!_ You have a very kind and considerate man to take care of you! Oh, I'm pretty sure many girls would be lining up to be in your position right now."

Matthew choked on Feliciano's last words. He managed to put a decent smile on his face rather than gag at how ironic Feliciano's statement was.

_If this poor guy only knew what I go through, I doubt he'll say girls wanna be in my position. Which girl would be crazy enough to want to be with a personality-confused Brit for the rest of her life?_

Matthew shook his head, trying to gather up his thoughts. Feliciano undid the red ribbon that tied the box and was now placing it on the ground. He lifted the lid on the box and Matthew couldn't help but gasp as the dress that lay neatly folded before him.

"It's a dress…" Feliks said as he reached for the navy blue fabric and hugged it closed to his body. "Oh! The skirt is made of taffeta! I just love the feeling of taffeta gliding swiftly down my knees! This would look totally fabulous on you, Matthew! I, like, know it will!"

Matthew blushed, his eyes never once leaving the dress. Well, Matthew had to admit, Emily vowed he looked "absolutely hot" in blue. He stood to take the dress from Feliks hands. He placed it close to his body, examining every inch of it. He couldn't help but feel a swell of pride to know Arthur had bought the dress for **him **and not for some random wench on the street.

"I-I-It's pretty…" he murmured dreamily.

"_Abbastanza__?" _Feliciano interrupted his thoughts when the slightly taller man stood up. "Matthew. It's just not pretty! It's absolutely beautiful! I'm sure you'd look very amazing in this, _il mio amico. _No doubt about it! You'll have all the men's eyes on you when you walk into the room! They'll all gasps and gossip. And the ladies will be jealous too, when they see you walk in looped in Arthur's arms! That would be a nice sight to see, don't you think?"

Matthew considered the thought. A beautiful night, his mom and dad throwing a small party just for them, Arthur waiting for him outside his room dressed in a nice suit, people staring and getting jealous the moment they catch a glimpse of him on Arthur's arm, then when night falls, Arthur takes him to his bedroom and –

"Gah!" he shouted, collapsing on the floor like a man caught in the middle of the Blitz. "Stupid, stupid! You are so stupid, Matthew! Don't think like that! Just stop it!"

Feliciano and Feliks shared an amused glance. Feliks rolled his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips. Feliciano giggled, looking Matthew who swore loudly in French.

"Alright, _Szalony,_ you're coming with me..." Feliks sighed, poking Matthew's shoulder until the blonde looked up at him, tears spilling out the corners of his eyes. "We have to get you dressed before 5 this afternoon. Arthur told us your flight leaves at six… That means we got about…"

"Two hours!" Feliciano chimed in.

Feliks paused. "That gives us about…" he began lifting his perfectly polished fingers one by one. "Its three o'clock now… And… Oh! We have exactly 2 hours before Arthur barges into this room and demands for your body!"

Matthew shivered at the thought of Arthur barging in while he was half-naked and dragging him down the hallway. He felt so lethargic at the image of Arthur's smug grin that he simply went along with anything ang everything Feliks and Feliciano did to him. He didn't even care when they put on some pink blush-on on his face, slicked on pale pink lipstick and combed his hair in various directions. He let them unbutton his shirt and simply sighed when they threw it on the bed. Hell! He even let them remove his pants and shoes without protests. Feliks and Feliciano were very delighted when they realized how submissive Matthew was.

"Okay, Matthew, you're all done!" Feliks announced, patting his cheek lightly. "Go and look at yourself, girl! Oh, wait! You're way prettier than a girl right now, Matthew! I can assure you, you look smokin' hot!"

"_Sei bellissima__! _I'm sure Arthur won't be able to tear his eyes off of you, Matthew! You look amazing! Simply amazing!" Feliciano added, jumping up and down from the corner.

Matthew nodded, still not looking at himself in the mirror. Feliciano and Feliks exchanged giggles before opening the doors out the room, letting Matthew stagger down the hall. Antonio had been leaning on the wall right next to the room and a smile immediately crept unto his face when he caught sight of Feliciano.

"Feli!" he cried, spreading his arms wide for a hug.

"Boss!" Feliciano yelled, jumping into Antonio's welcoming arms. The taller man whirled them around and around until Feliciano was dying of giggles.

"Well, you took your bloody time." Arthur's cold voice echoed down from the kitchen.

"Okay! Whose idea was it to let Arthur into Feli's kitchen?! You guys are sick! Sick!" Feliks cried, his arms flailing in the sky. "_Wy__powinien__pójść do__piekła!__Piekło__, mówię!"_

Matthew watched as Feliks continued to cry things out in Polish, walking towards the kitchen. I just a few seconds, he was already dragging Arthur by the hand, the latter having a very shocked look on his face.

"_Dla was przestrogą, Arthur, pobyt __z kuchni__! __Ty draniu!"_ he screamed, throwing Arthur into the hall.

"What happened in that room?" Arthur asked, straightening the cuffs of his wrists. "What the bloody hell is Feliks sprouting from that lip glossed mouth of his? Never mind. I believe I do not want to know."

Feliks raised an eyebrow. "I do that sometimes, honey, it's perfectly normal…" he said, "I do it to release tension I feel after a great make-over! Like, look at Matthew! Doesn't he look delicious?"

Arthur sighed, glancing at the smaller blonde who was practically glued to the wall. The moment his eyes fell on him, they didn't let him go.

"Is that the Union Jack?" was the first words that came out of Arthur's gaping mouth.

"_Si! _Feliks and I were looking through the closet full of clothes you got him and found this really cute shirt with your flag on it! We thought Matthew would look really pretty in it!" Feliciano tried to explain, walking away from Antonio's embrace, "The shirt is a little bit bigger than him, though. But, it does give him a kind of innocent look that really fits his face! And the white gladiator shoes Feliks had been a perfect fit on him!"

Arthur swallowed. "And, what of the shorts?"

Feliks answered this one. "You have to admit, Matthew has gorgeous legs!" he began, "It would be, like, a total crime to try and hide them! Luckily, I had an extra pair of denim shorts to give him, so I threw them on him! His legs look totally kissable, don't ya think? But, I'll leave the thigh kissing to you, Arthur Kirkland…"

Arthur shook his head, tearing his gaze away from Matthew's incredibly short shorts. The blonde looked up at him, his amethyst eyes wide and pleading above the rim of his glasses. Feliciano had pinned Matthew's hair on one side and just let the curls fall down to envelope his face. Arthur's hand twitched when he saw one curl droop over the Canadian's face. He had to fight the urge to step forward and tuck it back behind his ear.

Antonio coughed, breaking Arthur's trance. "I'm sorry, _amigo_, but we have to go…" he informed them, "It's already 4:30… Do you have any plans of leaving?"

Arthur coughed back, a little unnerved. "Yes. Yes." He replied, stretching out his hand. "Shall we go, pet?"

Matthew nodded meekly, his hands playing with the ends of his long sleeve. Feliks and Feliciano tailed after them, a sleek black suitcase on each of their hands. As Arthur held open the door for Matthew, he couldn't help but look down to glimpse the other's ass as he slid into the seat. This little scene did not escape Feliks' field of vision and he promptly whispered a very lewd comment into Arthur's ear before he trotted back towards the steps.

"_Arrivederci__, __ragazzi!"_ Feliciano waved after them.

"_Do zobaczenia później,__brytyjskiej__drania!"_ Feliks smirked, playing with a strand of his blonde hair.

Arthur sighed, looking at Matthew's deliciously crossed legs before turning his attention towards the moving landscape. He was gonna make it out of this vacation alive. And he hoped Matthew would make it out a virgin.

* * *

Matthew couldn't ignore the cold rush of air that greeted his bare legs when he and Arthur walked into the busy Kennedy airport. He wasn't used to exposing his legs like that and he sure as hell wasn't used to all the stares he got from the young men that passed by. He glanced sideways at Arthur, secretly relieved when he saw the Brit paid no attention to his attire.

"Did you tell my mom about this trip?" he whispered when Arthur finished talking to the woman at the desk.

"Of course I told her." Arthur replied, taking his hand and leading him towards a secluded hallway.

"You told her what, exactly?" Matthew continued.

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "I told her I would take you to England to meet my parents." He gripped Matthew's hand tighter, turning his body so as to avoid a wall. "Fortunately, Antonio has agreed to be your sister's personal driver. If your mother needs anything, your sister can call Antonio and he can drive her to your apartment."

Matthew nodded. "Did she say anything about me?" he asked cautiously.

Arthur was about to reply when a certain brunette interrupted their moment.

"You're late, Kirkland!" the brunette yelled, hands on hips. "Do you think we'd postpone the flight until your sorry ass gets here? I don't think so!"

Matthew looked up at the woman and was met with furious green eyes glaring at him. "Uhm…"

"Oh!" The woman's eyes softened and she looked at Matthew. "I see. You had a little minx with you. But, aren't you a little too old for this lamb, Kirkland?"

Arthur sighed. "If I had time, Elizaveta, I would argue with you…" He glanced over at Matthew, "But I have to take this lamb to England so she can meet my parents. Will you please let me into the plane now?"

The woman laughed, patting Arthur's back with such force even Matthew could feel himself jerk forward. "Hey there, Missy!" she smiled at Matthew, "Elizaveta Hedervary, nice to meet you. I pray to all gods that you won't loose your innocence to this demon of a man."

"That's enough, Veta." Arthur coughed, taking Matthew's hand and leading him away from the strange woman. She smirked and stepped in their way, directing them towards their seats on the commercial flight.

"You know that wasn't necessary." Arthur whispered into Elizaveta's ear.

"I'm a flight attendant. I have to do this, even if I hate it." Elizaveta sneered, making her way across the aisles.

Once they took their seats, Matthew was desperate to start a conversation. But, he knew that if he started one, it could go downhill from there and he and Arthur would end up fighting again. He really didn't want to be in bad terms with Arthur if they were going to meet his parents.

"Are you cold, Matthew?" Arthur asked.

Matthew let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He looked up from his lap and smiled. "Oh, no! I'm fine, really…" he muttered, "But, I'm not really used to wearing shorts like these."

"Well, the shorts are really…" Arthur trailed, looking for a word.

"Short?" Matthew finished, giggling.

Arthur nodded awkwardly. "As Feliks said, they compliment your legs…"

Matthew blushed at his comment. "Well, Emily did say I had great legs…" he teased, "But, I'm not really the showy type so I don't have any shorts. And besides, Emily and I traveled a lot between New York and Vancouver before. _Maman _always got angry whenever Emily wore shorts when we took the commercial flights. A lot of people always stare at her legs…"

Arthur smirked. "Then I must ask for your forgiveness…" he said, "I thought it would make you more comfortable if we were in the commercial class."

"I'm sure you're aware of the stares, Arthur?" Matthew replied in a low tone, "Aren't you worried that someone might molest your 'minx'? You could have easily bought tickets for a first class flight to avoid the stares. Hell, I'm sure you could have a private jet take us to England. So, why the commercial flight?"

He turned to look at him, and for once his eyes weren't seductive, angry, and cold and they didn't bore into the depths of Matthew's soul. He simply looked like he was tired and needed some rest.

"Matthew, I am well aware of the stares and I plan to ignore them, lest I get arrested for attempted homicide. If you really want to know, I wanted this trip to be for pleasure. I can only take the company plane if it's solely for business purposes." He sighed. "I know it's hard for you to accompany me to meet my parents, but can you please not be like this? Can we call a momentary truce?"

Matthew rolled his eyes, tempted to argue with the Brit. But, the pleading look in his eyes made him feel sorry for the guys. He let out a breath and nodded his head.

"I'll try to be nice…." He said, "If you do your best not to touch me…"

Arthur smirked. "I can't guarantee that…" he laughed, "But, I'll try as well…"

* * *

**K/N: **Okay. So I guess I spent too much time dressing Mattie up. But, I gotta admit, I had fun dressing him up in all those cute girly clothes. And I loved Feliks way of pampering my little Canadian! Leave it to a cross-dressing Pole to make an invisible Canadian absolutely sexy! Feliciano did Mattie's hair because I liked imagining what it would look like if he was seated behind Mattie and twisting his hair into a ponytail.

By the way, here are some of the words google translate gave me:  
((POLISH))

_Witaj!_ - Hello!  
_Szalony_ - Crazy  
_Wy powinien pójsc do piekla! __Pieklo, mówie!_ - You should go to hell! Hell, I say!  
_Dla was przestroga, Arthur, pobyt z kuchni! Ty draniu_ - Warning to you, Arthur, stay out of the kitchen! You bastard!  
_Do zobaczenia pózniej, brytyjskiej drania!_ - See you later, British bastard!

((ITALIAN))

_Tu sei così fortunato, Matteo!_ - You are so lucky, Matthew!  
_Abbastanza_? - Pretty?  
_il mio amico_ - my friend  
_Sei bellissima!_ - You're beautiful!  
_Arrivederci, ragazzi!_ - See you, guys!

* According to (Theaveragebody average_foot .php) this source, these are the sizes of shoe sizes of men and women in Canada. And since Canada is a feminine man, I got the average size of the two genders. And thus, size 8!


	5. Chapter 5

**K/N:** Yo! Decided to write the 5th chapter of this fic today, hope you don't mind. About my other fics, I'll leave them for later since their latest chapters will be a little longer than expected. Plus, I accidentally forgot to save my already finished chapter of White Rose of Innocence; therefore I'm still trying to get over the fact that I hated myself that day. Anyways, enjoy the UKCan in this chapter and don't worry, Alfred won't be too annoying~

Fem!Ireland – Éire Kirkland  
Scotland – Alistair Kirkland  
Fem!Wales – Rhonwen Kirkland (she married Scotland)  
Fem!Russia - Anya Braginsky

* * *

Thirty minutes into the flight and Arthur had already drifted off to Dreamland, leaving Matthew to stare out the plane window, wondering how the weekend was gonna go and how his parents would react to him. Getting bored of the endless sky, Matthew took a peek at the sleeping man beside him. To his suprise, Arthur was gorgeous. When he slept like that, peaceful and serene, Matthew couldn't help but wonder what made this seemingly innocent man into the hot-n-cold bastard that forced him into this situation.

"He must have went through some tough experiences growing up..." he said to himself, absentmindedly brushing off a strand of Arthur's hair. "Now that I think about it, I feel kinda sorry for him... I hope this trip is gonna turn out well, for both our sakes..."

After what seemed like an eternity of watching the Brit dream about who-knows-what, Arthur finally stirred just as the plain was about to land in British Airways. Matthew, who had dozed off at some point, was awakened by a slight tap on his shoulder. Fluttering his eyes open, he saw Arthur standing in front of him, his hand outstretched and Matthew's suitcase tucked under his arm.

"Let's go, love. I would not want to keep my parents waiting..." he smiled down at him, relishing in the way Matthew tucked the stray strands of hair that fell to his face.

"Thank you..." Matthew said politely as he took the hand that was offered to him.

He followed Arthur through the rush of people exiting the plane and was grateful when the man took hold of his hand when he almost slipped in the middle of the busy halls. He blushed as he realized people were staring at him, especially at their joined hands, as they walked towards the baggage claim area. Once there, Arthur protested that he would be the one to retrieve Matthew's baggage and even swatted the younger man's hand away when he tried to reach for his suitcase.

"Our son, always the gentleman..." came a voice behind the young couple.

Matthew turned to see an attractive pair of blondes looking at them, their hands linked and their smiles warm and sunny. He had to stifle a giggle when he noticed the thick eyebrows the man had on his face, something Matthew knew was the dominant gene of the family. The woman, though, had no thick eyebrows. But, she had Arthur's hair and eyes, or was it the other way around? Nonetheless, Matthew knew at first glance these were the parents Arthur had been talking about.

"Mum, Dad! It is so nice to see you again!" Arthur greeted, smiling. With open arms, he approached his parents and embraced them in a tight hug. Matthew, sensing he was out of place, just stood in the corner waiting for either of the two parties to notice him.

"Oh, this must be the girl you've told us about!" the woman commented, motioning towards Matthew. "Don't be so shy, my dear. You look awfully lovely. Come, come, we want to meet the darling girl our little boy has kept talking about!"

Matthew stepped forward, his hand neatly folded in front of him. "Uhm, hello... It's nice to meet you... I'm Emily F. Jones, I'm sure Arthur here has told you something about me..." he finished with a light shrug, making the older woman giggle.

"My, my, aren't you a shy one?" she said between giggles. "Arthur has told us a lot about you, dear. And you are as lovely as I imagined you would be. I am Arthur's Mum, Alice; it is my pleasure to meet you..."

Matthew smiled, taking the woman's hand in his and giving it a slight shake. "No, no! It's _**my **_pleasure to meet _**you**_, Mrs. Kirkland!" he said honestly, a smile beaming on his face.

"Oh, please, call me Alice, all of Arthur's friends do!" Alice assured him. "You can call this old man next to me Senior, our little Arthur here is embarrassed to be called Junior!" she giggled, kissing Arthur's cheek.

Matthew giggled, too, taking the outstretched hand of Arthur Kirkland Sr. and shaking it. He looked over at Arthur Kirkland Jr. who surprisingly looked back at him with a genuine smile on his face. Arthur Senior took one of Matthew's suitcases, refusing when the Canadian offered to carry it himself.

"Let me carry it, love. After all, I have to show this little brat what it means to be a gentleman," he smirked, ruffling up Arthur's hair.

"Oh, shut up, old geezer! You are half the gentleman I am!" Arthur laughed, shoving Matthew's handbag over his shoulder. He followed his father ahead and Alice walked beside Matthew.

"Let's leave the men to whatever chatter they have in mind. Let's talk about something women would understand. Right, Emily?" Alice said as she looped her arm around Matthew's.

"O-Of course, why not?" Matthew replied, giggling nervously, wishing that it would be the kind of girl talk he had been used to.

Luckily, Alice rambled on about roses, something Matthew had been interested in since Madeline bought him one when he was five. He could feel Arthur glance at him once in a while, sending shivers down his spine. Their eyes met once, Arthur smirking and Matthew shrugging. When they reached the Kirklands' car, a three-year-old Nissan pick-up, the Arthurs threw his luggage in the back and hopped in the front seat. Matthew and Alice giggled at the two, Alice saying "Like father like son", then they too climbed at the backseat.

The conversation on the way to their summer house was confidential, something Matthew was not surprised to hear. They talked about the current situation with the stockholders, some issue on embezzlement and how Arthur was handling the company. Matthew felt proud that they included him in the conversation once in a while, Arthur listening to him with a very open mind. When they finally arrived at the Kirklands' four bedroom villa, the Canadian finally felt that he could actually enjoy his vacation, especially if Arthur continued to act the way he did. Heck, he might even _**love **_staying with the arrogant Brit.

"Arthur, if you like, you may take Emily's things up to your room. We will be waiting in the living room for you," Alice had said when the group entered their spacious living room.

Matthew blushed then looked over at Arthur. "Your room?!" he mouthed; making sure Alice didn't see him. Arthur simply laughed, annoying him a little.

"I see I've trained you well, Mum." Arthur commented, still smiling. "Unfortunately, it would take more than a personal request from the Queen for this woman to share a room with me. If it's alright with you, I'd rather she sleep in Éire's room."

Both his parents glanced at Matthew, a new interest sparking in their emerald eyes. "Well, well, this is something new." Senior muttered under his breath. Alice jabbed him with his elbow and he quickly apologized to Matthew.

"Pardon me, Emily, I did not think you were…" Alice didn't continue, Arthur's glare had already reached her. "I think I'll keep quiet, lest my son attempt matricide!"

Matthew laughed nervously, not pushing the matter. Arthur picked up his suitcase and led Matthew to his older sister's room. When they were finally alone, Matthew turned on him. "Uhm, what was that? Is it already a norm in your family to send the girls you bring home directly to your room?" he snapped, hands folded neatly over his chest.

Arthur sighed. "My Mum has stopped arguing with me about that issue since I turned twenty. Matthew, please, if my Mum let it go, I wish you would. Or, would you rather sleep in my quarter's tonight?!" he smiled, the smile that made Matthew's legs to jelly everytime.

With a huff, he grabbed the nearest pillow he could get and threw it straight at Arthur's face. "You're a prick!"

"And you are incredibly tempting, love…" he half-moaned, making Matthew's hair stand on end. "I would do something to you right now. Unfortunately for both of us, my parents and I have something to discuss. I suggest you unpack and go to bed, you look tired."

Matthew raised an eyebrow, laughed, and playfully swatted the man's arm. "Leave already!" he giggled, ignoring the kiss Arthur discreetly gave his ear.

"Good night, pet…" he whispered.

Matthew smiled. "Yeah, whatever…"

* * *

"A-A-Arthur!" Matthew shrieked as the abaco barb he was riding began to sway to the left, completely ignoring Arthur's hold on its reins. His hands were already trembling, and the triumphant look on Arthur's face didn't help calm them at all.

"Relax, Matthew. She won't let you fall, trust her…" Arthur soothed, "A horse can feel its rider's nerves, and so if you do not want to be thrown off, you have to calm down."

Matthew took a deep breath, tightened his grip on the horse's reins, and then nodded. "Okay, okay, I think I got this…" he said to himself, "Hi, Pixie, I'm Matthew. I know you think I'm nervous right now, but it's fine. I'm calm. So, please, don't drop me!"

Arthur chuckled as Matthew gingerly patted the horse's head, his face splitting into a smile when the mare responded to his touch. "She-She listened to me! Arthur, did you see that?! Pixie responded to me!" he squealed, his smile growing brighter and brighter.

"I told you, did I not?" Arthur replied matter-of-factly, "She can feel whatever you are feeling. Now that you are relaxed, she too is relaxed. As simple as that…"

"Thank you!" Matthew exclaimed, his smile boring into Arthur's composure.

The Brit coughed, hiding his red face in his hands. "Damn him and his smile!" he swore under his breath, Pixie looking at him with a concerned look. "You'll help me get him, won't you Pix?" he whispered into the mare's ear. The mare pointed its head towards Arthur's parent, who were riding not too far ahead, as if to ask if it would be alright with the big bosses. Arthur chuckled, "They won't mind it at all. I just need you to run amuck a bit, scare Matthew, and maybe even drop him. But, I'll have you swear on your life that when he falls, you will make sure I'm there to catch him. Understood, Pix?"

The horse nodded. As to how Arthur was able to talk to a horse, it's because of the fact that he raised this mare since childhood. With a wink, he let go of its reins and it ran off, a screaming Matthew with it.

"A-A-Arthur, help me! What's going on?! What happened?! ARTHUUUUR!" Matthew yelled, holding unto the reins for his dear life. "Pixie! Please, stop this! I-I-I-I'm scared! Please, slow down!"

Arthur watched until his parents noticed the mare running about. "Arthur! Pixie is running away with Matthew! Do something, dear!" Alice yelled in panic. Arthur tried to act shocked before running off to catch the mare. After a few long strides, he was already by the mare side. Another wink and Pixie suddenly turned left; Matthew lost balance and his grip on the reins. Matthew fell and Arthur caught him, just like they planned.

"You alright, love?" Arthur asked, a trembling Matthew lying on his chest. It wasn't really his intention for _**both**_ of them to fall. But he wasn't superman and he couldn't keep his balance. Besides, having Matthew on his chest made the younger blonde blush more, which was something he could not get tired of watching.

"Y-Y-Yeah… Th-Thank you for catching me…" Matthew mumbled, burying his face deeper into Arthur's chest. "I-I-I don't want that to happen again, ever. I think I'm done with horseback riding for today…"

Arthur hugged him tighter. "Let's go back inside, shall we?"

Matthew nodded and Arthur helped him up. A moment later, Alice and Senior were rushing towards them, asking them if they were both alright. Alice took Matthew away for a moment and led him towards a small table at the edge of the garden. When she finally convinced him to take a seat, she handed him a glass of lemonade.

"I know this is not the time and place to say this, but I just can't bear to watch you two feel something for each other and then ignore it!" Alice suddenly announce, making Matthew choke on his drink. "Now, dear, don't say it's not true. I saw the way you looked at him while you were on that horse and the way you clung to him when he caught you. I know love dear, and that was the only thing shining in your eyes. Arthur is too thick-headed to notice, but I am sure he loves you as well. He has never been this happy for as long as I can remember and you so easily make him smile."

Matthew blushed, sinking into the lawn chair. He watched silently as the two Arthurs ran around the vast garden, the Senior obviously teasing the Junior about something. When Arthur caught his eye, the Brit shrugged and playfully rolled his eyes causing Matthew to giggle. Alice, the all-seeing mother, knew in her heart that her son finally made the right choice.

* * *

Later that day, as Matthew contemplated on Alice Kirkland's words earlier in the garden, he was awakened from his daze by a soft rap on his door. Panicking, he fell face fist on the floor.

"Uhm, c-c-come in!" he mumbled, quickly getting back on his feet.

The door opened slightly and Arthur popped his head in. "Are you feeling any better?"

Matthew blushed, suddenly remembering his conversation earlier. "Y-Y-Yeah, just snoozed off a while. I'm okay now, a bit shaken up, but still okay…"

Arthur looked relieved. "That's good to hear…" he sighed, seating himself beside Matthew on the bed. "Listen, my Mum and Dad are having a party later tonight and I wish for you to come. No excuses, Matthew, I bought I dress for you already. I even went to great lengths to invite your half-brother, Alfred. It seems he's here in England and-"

"You invited Alfred?!" Matthew snapped, "Just. Just. Just how in the world did you get his number? How do you even know him?!"

"I know everything about you, remember?" Arthur replied coolly.

Matthew's cheeks were flaring. "I know that! You don't have to rub it in my face that you know _**so much **_about me that you can control my life!" he yelled, "What happens if Alfred comes?! What then?! Does he know I'm posing as Emily, that I'm being your-your plaything?!"

Arthur cleared his throat. "Of course he knows. Why else would he come?" he put in, "He seemed rather happy to know you're with somebody. I remember him saying that he 'never thought someone as boring as Matthew could pull off being Emily'. He wishes you the best."

Matthew's eyes grew wide. "He wishes me the best? I'm supposed to believe that lie?!"

"Shut up, Matthew, and listen to me!" Arthur finally gave in, rising to his feet. "I said I did not want to argue with you, but then here we are, yelling at each other. If you really don't believe me, go to the party and see Alfred for yourself. At least show some respect for my parents, this entire thing was planned to welcome you, bloody git!"

Matthew fell silent. He had never heard Arthur shout like that. He nodded silently, unsure of what to say to the enraged man. Arthur ran a trembling hand through his hair before turning to leave. "I'll see you tonight, Matthew…"

As the door closed, Matthew threw himself on the bed, tears finding their way to the surface. Grabbing a pillow, he buried his face in its softness and sobbed.

_Why is he affecting me so much? He makes me feel like some princess on minute and then a wretched Cinderella the next? Is this really love, huh? Well, if love hurts than happiness must be hell!_

He continued to sob until the sunlight in his room faded to gray. He then forced himself off his bed and to the bathroom for a quick shower. He tried to convince himself that he was gonna attend the party as a sign of respect and to see Alfred again. But somewhere in his heart, he just couldn't bear to see Arthur dance with some other random woman. If the party was for him, then he would enjoy it. Arthur or no Arthur.

* * *

Matthew wasn't really sure if what he was doing was the right thing. He was so angry and determined to knock Arthur off his feet that he ignored the stares he got from the people as he took one step after another down the stairs. He knew they were curious as to who he was and what he was doing there, but he was far too busy looking for the arrogant Brit that he couldn't care any less about them.

Suddenly, a hand found its way over his stomach and he felt a pair of lips plant a kiss on his bare shoulder.

_Arthur._

"I knew you'd look smashing in this dress…" he whispered into his ear, "But, I never imagined you would be this tempting…"

He would have blushed right then and there, but his anger made his resolve to be unaffected stronger. "Why, thank you, Arthur. The dress really is lovely, I love it!" he said casually, ice in his tone.

Arthur grinned devilishly, sending a wave of pleasure to Matthew's spine. "Then, you wouldn't mind wearing it more often for me, love?" he dared.

He finally blushed. "I hate you, Kirkland…"

Arthur shrugged nonchalantly, sliding an arm over Matthew's slim waist. "I know, poppet, I know…" he grinned, steering Matthew towards a group of guest. One, in particular, had golden blonde hair and energetic blue eyes.

"Ma-I mean- Em!" Alfred. F Jones exclaimed, scrambling to get closer to Matthew. "Mat, er, Em! Wow! You look gorgeous in that dress!"

Matthew giggled, amused at how Alfred's eyes sparkled when he saw him. "Hi, Al. Long time no see, eh?" he began, "How's life travelling with Dad? Found anything interesting?"

Alfred grinned. "Well, it was boring at first, watching old guys go up to Pops, askin' him what year the wine was made and how it tasted. Yeah, trading wine is kinda awesome, especially when ya get to meet some weird people. Other than that, it's boooooriiiing!" Alfred continued, "Though I did meet this cute chick while we were in Russia. She seems nice, always smilin' and stuff. Her brother scares the shit out of me, though, with that scary aura of his!"

Matthew couldn't stop giggling; imagining everything Alfred had been talking about. "Did you bring this girl with you?" he asked, looking to where Alfred had waited earlier.

"Yeah, she's over there. Thank god her brother allowed me to bring her here. She only knows limited English, but she knows the important word anyway!" Alfred rambled on, his smile never fading. "Want me to introduce you to 'er?"

Matthew nodded and Alfred rushed towards the crowd again. After a few short moments, he was already dragging a pretty Russian girl with long, snow-blonde hair and amethyst eyes their way. "Mat. Oops! I meant Emily. Yeah, Emily! This here's Anya Braginsky. Ain't she a beauty?"

Anya smiled, a kind of creepy smile that made Matthew want to run for the hills. Alfred seemed to ignore it somehow and just continued beaming at her.

"Здравствуй, малыш... I am Anya Braginsky. You are the girl Alfred keeps on talking about, da?" she greeted in a highly accented voice.

Matthew nodded. "Yes. I am Alfred's half-sister, Emily. And this is Arthur, my fiancé. We are both very glad to meet you, Anya…" he said truthfully.

Anya's smile became warmer and her shoulders relaxed. "You are just his sister? Then that is good, very good!" she replied, "Я убил бы вас сейчас, глупо меня… You are just his sister, da?"

Matthew nodded, stealing a worried glance at Arthur. "Я убью тебя, если ты убил эту женщину..." Arthur replied, in perfect Russian.

Matthew had to blink a couple of times, making sure he wasn't just hearing things. He could vaguely hear Alfred laugh as he dragged Anya towards one of the tables laden with food. When they were alone, Matthew looked at Arthur, his look giving away his confusion.

"You speak Russian?!" he exclaimed.

Arthur shrugged; picking up two glasses of champagne as passing waiter offered them. "What is there to it, love?" he replied.

"Russian, Arthur, Russian!" Matthew accepted the champagne offered. "You never told me that!"

"There are a lot of things you don't know about me, Matthew…" he smirked, "And giving them away one after the other would make this little romance more thrilling, does it not?"

Matthew rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his champagne. "Is that so, Mr. Kirkland?" he purred, "What other secrets have you been keeping from your fiancée?"

Arthur lessened the distance between their faces until Matthew could feel his breath against his nose. "Can I really trust a minx such as yourself not to divulge my secrets the moment you hear of them?" he dared.

Matthew didn't know if it was from the rush of flirting, or from the champagne he was now gulping down, but he felt like he wanted to act coy for the night. "Try me, Kirkland…" he dared back, "Tell me all your secrets and I'll tell you mine…"

"You forget, darling…" Arthur grinned, "I know everything about you…"

Matthew slid his hands up Arthur's neck, drawing his lips closer to the man's ears. "Not everything, Arthur…" he whispered, drawing his hands back and walking towards the sliding glass doors to the patio. He left Arthur standing there, gaping at him.

_Please, follow me. Don't make me look like a fool, Arthur. Follow me!_

And, just like that, Arthur rushed to follow him to the patio. Hiding a triumphant smirk, the Canadian walked over to the ledge and looked up at the moon. "Isn't the moon beautiful tonight, Arthur?" he said dreamily.

"It pales to you beauty, lovely maiden." Arthur replied in a teasing tone.

Matthew played along. "Oh, dear sir, that would be an insult to Selene. If the goddess were to hear you, he would punish us both for our faithlessness!"

Arthur chuckled, tucking that one stray curl under Matthew's ear. "But, dear maiden, even with hair unkempt, you still look so lovely and tempting."

Matthew giggled. "If I were to tie my hair, would I be less tempting, my sir?"

Arthur drew closer, pressing a kiss on Matthew's bare neck. "You would only force me to rip your ribbon away, maiden… And you would not want me to do that, now would you?"

Arthur stared into his eyes, fiery emerald orbs melting Matthew's very core. He could see the hunger through those eyes and he grabbed his chance. With all his might, Matthew put on the most irresistible pout he could muster. Arthur's lower lip trembled, he got him.

"I…" Arthur stuttered, "I-I-It's getting awfully cold, should we go inside?"

Matthew could have slapped him. "Isn't this the normal weather in England? Has all those years in New York finally broken your British tolerance for the cold?" he teased.

Arthur knew where this was going. He grabbed Matthew's hand and pulled him to his body, holding his chin up with his free hand. "I am very aware of what you are trying to do, Matthew…" he whispered huskily, "Are you aware of the public's eye? I despise them but I know their opinions matter to you, love. But, if you tell me now that you couldn't care less about them, I would be more than willing to take your purity in front of this audience…"

Matthew knew he was not the type of man who would do that. But, he wanted to see how far he could push the man. "I'm feeling kinky today, so why not?" he replied, a teasing smile on his lips and mirth in his amethyst eyes.

Arthur sighed, brushed his hair away and kissed his forehead. "I'll let you win for today, Matthew…" he admitted, "I was on my best behaviour for the entire weekend, so it is only fair that you should behave as well. I don't want to throw away all my effort simply because of your provocation."

Matthew smiled triumphantly. "Thank you for losing, dear knight…" he giggled, "You know what, it _**is **_kind of cold out here. Let's go in, shall we?"

* * *

A few more hours of dancing and the guests started leaving one by one. Alfred gave Matthew a little kiss on the forehead and Anya wished both of them the best before they both drove off to their hotel. Arthur's important guests, all of which Matthew learned were CEOs of different companies, gave him their approving smiles while their wives gave him their own pieces of advice. At the stroke of twelve, the only people left were Arthur's parents who quickly made an excuse to go up to their room.

"We're a little too old to be staying up this late, dear… We best be off to bed, don't stay up too long…" were Alice Kirkland's parting words as she linked her arms with her husband.

Matthew could tell by the wink Alice gave her discreetly that she planned for them to be alone. He was scared of making the first move, so he just stood in the corner, watching Arthur as he turned of the lights in the living room and kitchen.

"Won't you kiss me goodnight?" he whimpered as Arthur passed by him.

Arthur stopped, turned then walked closer towards him. "Matthew…" he sighed, stroking the blonde's hair, "You are far too inexperienced for this, so don't even try to start something I am sure you can't finish. Do us both a favour and go to sleep…"

With a brief and emotionless peck on Matthew's cheek, Arthur turned and stalked to him room. Matthew felt like he had been rejected again. Though, for once, he knew Arthur was right. He _**was **_too innocent for all of this… But, that didn't mean he was gonna give up. He was simply gonna grow up.

* * *

**Add/N: **To those who are curious as to what Anya and Arthur were talking about, here are the translations:

*Я убил бы вас сейчас, глупо меня. - I would have killed you by now, silly me...  
**Здравствуй, малыш - Hello there, little one...  
***Я убью тебя, если ты убил эту женщину. - I'll kill you if you kill this woman...

Phew! That took a toll on my inner USCan fangirl. Can't really bear to watch Alfred act like he doesn't care when he sees Arthur and Matthew together. Not to confuse you, but Alfred seriously doesn't care that they're together on this fic! Anyways, thank you for reading and being patient. See you guys on the next chapter of my other fics! _Auf wiedersehen!_


End file.
